Strive
by evil-herbivore1
Summary: PG-13 for bad language Ginny has taught herself to blend in and become virtually invisible. Draco has taught himself to hide behind his secure facade. But interesting things begin to happen when they encounter one another in a Hogwarts corridor one night.
1. Chapter 1

I've never really written fanfiction before, except for one pathetic attempt that I never finished.  
It was pretty bad, so I'm hoping to redeem myself with this one. This story will focus more on  
character interaction then the whole magical universe, so this won't be another "Harry Potter and  
Blah Blah Blah" adventure story. I love the characters J.K.R. has created, and since she doesn't   
have the time to explore their minds in depth (what with having to write all those intricate plotlines)  
I decided to delve into them myself. Hopefully, it'll all work out.   
  
Obviously, I'd like reviews just to let me know how I'm doing, so if you feel up to it I'd be much  
obliged. Well I guess that's about it, sorry for rambling on. Hope you like it!  
  
Disclaimer-Not mine. Make up your own clever jokes, I'm much too lazy.  
  
  
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She sat in a corner, no more substantial then a shadow, invisible to any save   
those who made a conscious effort to see her.  
  
For the whole of her short life she had honed her inborn talent for blending in,  
patiently practicing every minute of everyday. Eventually, her skill for going  
unnoticed became so great that she found that if she sat just still and silently enough   
that she would quickly pass from the minds of any one near her. In essence, she disappeared.  
  
No one in the room noticed her now. It wasn't that she didn't have any friends.  
It wasn't that she wasn't likeable. It was that she was so close to   
invisible that when one of her peers glanced around the room,   
their eyes slid over her like they would slide over a couch or a lamp.  
  
She sat in complete silence. Not even the barest rustle of cheap, imitation silk  
on cheap, imitation silk betrayed her presence or impaired her hearingShe knew that listening to   
those around you was one of the greatest benefits of rendering yourself unseeable.  
  
She liked it this way the best. If no one could see you, then they couldn't  
keep any secrets. They wouldn't put on the masks they put on for their friends,  
they wouldn't say things that weren't entirely true just to escape an   
uncomfortable situation. She had learned so many things about people that no one  
else knew, just by sitting in her self-induced Invisibility Cloak.   
  
For example, Parvati sitting over there by the fireplace was in love with Dean who was   
sitting by the chessboard on the opposite side of the room. He loved her too,  
but they weren't going to tell anyone just yet. It was a secret that she shared with them.  
She watched and listened when everyone else was too busy in their own little worlds and she   
became a part of everything, every secret joy, every secret sorrow. The broken promises, the  
premeditated surprises...she knew about them all, even if no one ever guessed it.  
  
Little things. Everyday, common things that anyone could piece together if  
they could be as impalpable as she had trained herself to be. But they couldn't   
and that is what she clung to. In a family where there was no skill, attribute   
or personality left to claim for her own, she had learned to be invisible.  
  
With a slight sense of satisfaction, accompanied by the ever present bitter ache in her heart,  
Ginny Weasley ghosted out of the common room and walked the halls of the castle preoccupied with  
her own thoughts and unseen by almost every eye.  
  
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He slumped in the chair, a perfect porcelain statue of a person complete with painted on emotions   
and an attitude that over compensated for any lack of sincerity. Inside that flawless shell hunched   
another figure, tortured and afraid, the security he had in himself slowly being eaten away by an ever   
growing doubt. Had anyone seen the thoughts behind that masterful facade they would have been surprised   
that the boy wasn't gibbering with terror.  
  
But that was not his way. Ever since birth, he had been taught to bury pain and pleasure alike, as they impaired judgment and clarity equally. Love was also forbidden, it made you weak. Hate, though...  
hate and jealousy were tools. If they were not carefully crafted they could be dangerous...but in the  
right hands they were useful and powerful weapons.  
  
Every mind in the room was focused on him. Oh, they could play at having private conversations or  
make tasteless jokes that were accompanied by hollow laughter, but he saw how all their eyes   
flickered to him, how they licked their lips nervously when he met their gaze. It was what he  
wanted, what he had been trained to do. To wield power, you must command the fear and attention of  
those who would follow you. The facade felt satisfied. The boy underneath wanted to hide his face  
and slink out of the room.  
  
He sat in silence. Silence was one of the more useful skills that he had learned. If they didn't   
know what you were thinking, their imaginations would supply something infinitely more genius and   
intimidating. Unfortunately though, silence also allowed him time to think. Lately, thinking was not   
something he enjoyed. When he thought, strange ideas floated into his head and made him lose the  
usually unshakable control he had over his emotions.  
  
He liked it this way the most. Or, he had. But now he felt that ever present panic welling up   
painfully close to the surface before he barely stamped it back down. The silence ringing in his   
ears was overwhelming and he felt like he was struggling for air. He could feel his control slipping,  
feel his pretense shattering and he knew he needed to get out. Without a word and with the last of   
his self control he stood and walked sedately to the entrance of the common room and stepped through  
the threshold. And when he was alone, Draco Malfoy let out a cry that a dragon would weep to hear. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, I'm back! And less than two hours later, too...wow. It's all because I received a very nice review  
that said "more ASAP", so I obliged. See how happy reviews make me? They make my day. Honestly. So thank you   
ever so much, Lynn-chan, you are fantastic!   
I know these chapters are pretty short, I apologize. I'm swamped with stuff to do right now and tiny little   
chaplettes are all I have time for. I promise they'll get longer as the story goes along. Anyway, here we go (again).  
  
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em and still too lazy to be funny in a disclaimer.  
  
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Ginny whipped around, a panicked thumping in her chest. Through miles of corridor twisted a   
scream that wrenched at her heart and twisted her insides into knots. Every kind of hurt and  
loneliness and loss imaginable were threaded into that scream and beside it Ginny felt all her sadness  
pale to nothing. Hesitating only a moment, she lifted her robes and ran down the corridor, following   
the sound as best she could.  
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Draco could've beaten himself senseless. Sure, none of his fellow Slytherins would have heard   
that anguished cry since their lair had a permanent soundproofing ward on it, but that certainly didn't  
account for what the rest of the castle heard. Hauling himself up from where his legs had deposited him  
upon losing control, he stopped and cocked his head to one side. Footsteps! And not just footsteps,  
but someone running for all they were worth. He cast about him quickly, looking for some secret cubbyhole  
that could conceal him, but it was too late. The footsteps were upon him and he found himself staring   
into the very surprised eyes of none other than Virginia Weasley. He had time for one thought before his   
legs gave out again and he sat down hard on the floor.  
  
"Fuck." he said  
  
And the world winked out of existence.  
  
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"He fainted."  
  
She said the words aloud to make it more believable. It wasn't working.  
  
"Draco Malfoy just fainted at the sight of me."  
  
It still wasn't working. So she did the only thing that her curious mind and kind soul would let her do:  
she walked over and poked him in the ribs with her toe. She immediately leaped back, terrified, then shook   
her head ruefully. It wasn't as if he was actually the monster that had terrorized her dreams ever since  
Ron had told her about the "damned evil git, Malfoy". She squatted down near his head and looked at the   
nasty bump that was swelling on his temple.  
  
"Hi." her voice came out in a most unbecoming squeak. She shook her head and began again:  
  
"Hi....Malfoy. Umm, I'm not...really sure what happened and I know you can't hear me...but please, when you wake   
up, don't think I did anything to you, because I promise I didn't...and, uh...to prove that I didn't, I'm going   
to heal the bump on your head for you. Ok? So please, the next time you see me and you don't pass out, please   
don't hurt me. Or Ron." she added belatedly.  
  
With that she pulled out her wand and performed the customary swish and flick while muttering an incantation.  
  
"Terve tempia!"  
  
He didn't stir.  
  
"Well...uh, Malfoy....that should do the trick...I'm really sorry I saw you fall down and I..uh...really hope  
you don't remember you saw me. Ok, bye!"  
  
On the last word she stood up quickly to go, still fearful of the infamous Malfoy, when a hand reached out  
faster and paler than lightening and grabbed her arm. It pulled her painfully to her knees and forced her upper   
body to twist around as another hand grabbed her chin and held her head in a vicelike grip. Ginny let out a   
terrified shriek as she found herself facing a pair of very vivid, very angry grey eyes. Panicked, she twisted   
and turned, trying to contort her arm free of its captor. The eyes still looked directly at her, now vaguely amused  
and infinitely superior as he held her wrist effortlessly. It wasn't so much that it was Malfoy's eyes that created  
this feeling of terror (although that WAS the cause for a lot of it) it was the fact that ANY pair of eyes were   
looking directly at her, where no eye had looked in years and years. This previously unknown sensation caused her  
to go into a frenzy as she kicked, punched, bit and scratched her way out of his grasp.  
  
"Dammit!" Draco yelled, his emotions still running rampant. "What the hell was that all about? I just grabbed you   
because I thought you were attacking me! For once I actually didn't do anything to hurt you!"   
  
His eyes continued to bore into Ginny's head, causing her feet to become rooted to the spot in stark terror.  
  
"Ever the silent little Weasel, aren't you? What's the matter? Is your family too stupid and illiterate to teach you  
to speak properly?"   
  
Draco felt a bit more composed now, picking on a Weasley always made him feel better.  
  
She shook her head dumbly, trembling from head to toe, as she searched for a means of escape.  
  
"It seems they are. Well. It does seem we live up to the name of 'Weasel'" he sneered, finally   
breaking eye contact to examine the bleeding tooth marks in his forearm.  
  
With his gaze finally removed from hers, Ginny found to her great relief that her feet had   
remembered how to move. While his head was down and his attention was elsewhere, she gathered her robes and   
positively flew back to Gryffindor tower. 


	3. Chapter 3

Wow! Five reviews already...a new personal record for me. Thanks so much to all of you wonderful people!   
PATIENCE101 (TWO reviews...how awesome), Darcel and animegirl_mika...you got me through a long hard day.  
Thanks a lot! And just so everyone knows, if you take the trouble to review my story, then I always always   
always take the time to check out your stories and review them. Fair is fair, right? So please keep  
them coming, because I'm terrible at dialogue and I could really use some pointers on characterization  
and the like. Also, I could desperately use a beta reader, so if anyone is interested or knows where I can   
find someone who is, I would greatly appreciate it if you would let me know. Ok, enough of that.   
On with the show!  
  
Disclaimer- Don't own up and I'm still too lazy.  
  
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Ginny stood in the middle of a room. The floor was made of rough wooden planks and the ceiling   
disappeared into darkness high above her. There was a murkiness to her peripheral vision, a kind of  
indistinct grey ness that made her dizzy. But it wasn't the dizziness that was causing the knot of  
uneasiness in her belly, nor the dilapidated state of the room she was in. It was the Watchers.  
They inhabited every corner, they were behind her no matter which way she turned. They were hidden  
in the blackness above and were even peering up through the cracks in the floorboards and no matter  
how still she was or how silent she forced herself to be, they could still see her. In fact, the more  
invisible she tried to become, the harder they seemed to stare into her. Panic welled up before she could   
repress it and she spun around just in time to see a pair of angry grey eyes looming over her before darkness   
closed in.  
  
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She sat up, gasping for breath, and was startled further when she caught a glimpse of fiery movement   
out of the corner of her eye.   
  
'Idiot! You think you'd learn to move that dratted mirror after having been frightened by it for the   
last five years!' she grumbled under her breath.   
  
Feeling the adrenaline pulsing through her veins and realizing she wasn't going to sleep any more  
that night, she threw back the scarlet and gold coverlet and crept over to finally take care of the  
bothersome mirror. As she grasped the lightly gilded edges and tried to lift it from its hook, she found her face  
centimeters from the surface of the glass. Glancing up, she met the eyes of her reflection and had the  
disconcerting feeling that her mirror image had become independent of her real body and had joined the  
ranks of the Watchers in her dream.  
  
"Not really a morning person, are we, love?"   
  
Startled, Ginny almost dropped the heavy frame as her reflection sprang to life and laughed cheekily  
at her. When she recovered, however, she was inclined to agree with the gentle jab.  
  
"No, no I'm not. I'm not really much of an any time person." she said, somewhat sadly.  
  
"That's true." said the mirror. "I've seen you staring into me at all times of day and you can never quite  
manage a healthy glow. I'm sure you could improve your looks if you would just smile once in a while."  
  
"What's the point of improving my looks? Nobody ever sees me anyway."  
  
A now thoroughly melancholy Ginny studied her face as it was reflected back to her. Horrid  
red hair curled around her face and shoulders, framing a face so pale it was almost white. A light  
dusting of freckles equally as horrid as her hair graced her nose and her too-big eyes stared back  
at her in an average, ordinary brown colour. As her gaze traveled down her eyes took in a body that   
was so skinny and small as to render her childlike in appearance for the rest of her life. She sighed   
hopelessly and once again averted her eyes from the mess she saw reflected back at her.  
  
Finally setting down the mirror so that it faced the wall, she returned to her soft, warm bed  
and proceeded to toss and turn and feel generally miserable for the rest of the night.  
  
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Draco had had a nard night, as well. It was true that insulting the Weasel and frightening her  
out of her wits had calmed him and steadied his nerves, but it hadn't been nearly enough. He had gathered  
what little self control he could and traipsed back through the Slytherin common room and into his own dorm.   
Concealing himself in the curtains, he had proceeded to lie down on his bed, fighting admirably against  
the stinging and hot pressure under his eyelids. It was a losing battle, however, because no matter how well  
he could control himself when waking, the dream world was beyond his jurisdiction. When he woke, there were  
wet spots on his black silk pillowcase.  
  
Which was part of the reason he was in such a foul mood as he strode to the Great Hall for breakfast  
the following morning. The other part of the reason was that he had remembered his dreams, in which a small  
redheaded figure stared up at him, eyes boring into his until he felt the plaster he was encased in shatter.  
The debris hit her hard in the face and chest, knocking her down and he remembered annoyingly accurately the   
heartbreak he'd felt at seeing her small form lying motionless on the ground. Even though it was just a dream,  
he hated anything that had to do with Weasleys and he especially hated letting them get under his skin. That is  
why he was especially angry this morning at the smallest of their litter, Ginny Weasley.  
  
Stomping to his seat, Draco turned to face the doors of the Hall just in time to see a flash of red hair   
which he probably would have missed entirely had his thoughts not been focused on her previously. He continued to   
stare at as she sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, remembering how it had discomfited her the night before  
and determined to ruin her morning meal. She seemed conscious of eyes on her, but   
didn't quite seem to know where they were coming from. He was leaning back, thoroughly amused, as he watched her cast around the Gryffindor table carefully,   
searching for the owner of the eyes, when then he noticed something very strange. Where ever she looked, and however  
much she bent and twisted and leaned to better see the people at the far end of the table, no one looked back at  
her. Their gaze slid right over her and landed on the person they were looking for, no flicker of  
acknowledgement, nothing. Hell, the even paid more attention to their ridiculously pathetic House Ghost!  
  
The realization hit him slowly, as it was still early and he hadn't touched the steaming mug of coffee by  
his left hand.  
  
'They can't see her, can they?' he thought to himself. 'She's so stupidly silent and still that even her  
'valiant and caring' fellow Gryffindors don't notice her.'   
  
His thoughts were reflected in the sneer he wore on his face, smug and superior and filled with no small amount  
of malice, which was the terrifying view Ginny had when she finally found the owner of the watching eyes.  
  
  
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'Why is he looking at me like that?' Ginny's thoughts raced frantically as she put her head down and hunched  
her shoulders, trying to escape the steady gaze she felt focused on her.  
  
'I didn't mean to see him fall, I was just trying to help. I didn't do anything wrong!' As she realized this, she  
became more and more angry at the agony Malfoy was putting her through for something that hadn't been her fault and   
hadn't really even mattered. She hadn't seen him fall on purpose. It was his own damn fault if he was too big of a   
pansy to stay upright! With this thought she raised her head and met him stare for stare with smoldering eyes.  
  
'Try and punish me for seeing your weakness, Draco Malfoy. Just you try.' she thought. 'I won't let you.'  
  
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'Why is she looking at me like that?' Draco felt the sneer fade from his face as he was confronted with a full blast  
of Weasley rage. 'I didn't do anything wrong, I was just looking at her!'  
  
With the righteous indignation that comes from being entirely innocent, Draco Malfoy's eyes began to narrow and in a few  
moments he was glaring back just as hard at the insufferable littlest Weasley.  
  
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'What the hell am I doing? Why am I glaring at Draco Malfoy? He could eat me alive!"  
  
With a great effort, Ginny tore her eyes from the compelling grey gaze and threw herself out of the dining  
hall at a stumbling run. She didn't know that her sudden surrender had piqued the interest of a certain silver haired  
Slytherin to the point of persuing her in her flight. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again. I just have to take a moment right now to truly appreciate that I have 14 reviews. Can you believe  
it? 14! You guys are all fantastic and you have made me feel so much better about this little endeavor of  
mine. SO thank you to...kaze, Annie Christopher, QueenOfTheRogue, Belladonna, The Golden Goose, Viola, fyrechild,   
Darcel (again!) and Krista of StarTress. If I could, I would send you all cookies.  
  
Hmm, what else? Oh yes, the lullaby that appears in this chapter belongs to Sir Arnold Bax and is called (appropriately  
enough) A Celtic Lullaby.  
  
I tried to make this chapter a little bit longer. hopefully the quality won't suffer from the quantity. I think that's about  
all. Please let me know if I'm still doing ok as it would be much appreciated.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them or the song.  
  
Here we go...  
  
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Breathing heavily, Ginny finally slumped against the corridor wall.  
She was exhausted after her long, frantic flight from the Great Hall and wanted  
nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and hide from everyone  
forever.  
  
"What could you have possibly been thinking, Virginia Weasley?" she berated herself.   
"Draco Malfoy is not a person you want to make enemies with, now is he?"  
  
She honestly had no clear idea what had possessed her to glare up at Malfoy the way she had.  
All she knew was that she felt a long repressed emotion building up inside of her until it came pouring   
out of her eyes and on to the Slytherin table.  
Molly Weasley had often commented on Ginny's lack of the infamous Weasley temper and was of the   
opinion that when she finally did burst, it was going to be an explosion that rocked the ages. Ginny didn't want to   
rock anything and she certainly didn't want to lose her temper. That was how people identified  
Ron and she had cultivated her ability to pass unnoticed because that was what defined her. Fred and George were the trouble makers,   
Percy was the brainy one, Bill was the  
"cool" guy and Charlie was the successful adult. Ron had just barely managed to carve out a  
distinguishing characteristic for himself and if Ginny were to lose her temper...well, they would  
both lose everything they had worked for. So when she felt that white hot rage inside her heart  
it was such an unfamiliar feeling that she let it build, unchecked. It was only when she saw the  
same emotion mirrored in those terrifying grey eyes that she realized what she had been doing and fled  
in panic.  
  
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"Damn!" Draco Malfoy cursed his bad luck and all things Weasley.  
  
He had lost her again. After she had made her ungraceful and utterly confusing exit from the  
Great Hall he had hesitated only a moment before muttering a nonsense excuse to his table mates and  
leaping up to follow her. Unfortunately, she was astonishingly fast for such a tiny thing and Draco  
had found himself hard pressed to keep up with her. He had had to jog swiftly  
through the passages and even still, when he turned the last corner she had vanished into thin air. That had inspired   
the fit of cursing and now he stood stock still, listening for all he was worth.  
  
There! Coming faintly from around the next corner he could hear shuffling and a heavy breathing...  
  
"That must be the sneaky little Weasel now." he thought as he ghosted silently to the source of the  
sound.  
  
Peering around the corner, he was gratified with the sight of the small red head already cowering  
and seemingly spent. He quickly ducked out of sight as he stifled a most unbecoming eager giggle.  
This was going to be too perfect. He was still determined to ruin her morning after she had ruined his night   
and he had some particularly nasty ideas planned as he stepped into view, trademark sneer plastered  
all over his pale face.  
  
She was gone again.  
  
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If it hadn't been for her still heightened adrenaline level, she probably wouldn't have heard the  
strangled laughter coming from around the corner. As it was, she did hear it and immediately panicked, leaping to  
her feet and pressing her back even harder against the cold stone wall. To her immense surprise and simultaneous   
fear, the wall gave way behind her and she was tumbling down, down into darkness.  
  
When the black spots that always seemed to accompany a blow to the head  
finally cleared from her vision, Ginny's jaw dropped in awe. Before her stood one of the most elegant rooms she had ever been in.  
Vaulted ceilings that made echoes from the slightest of whispers arched gracefully over a black marble floor that was lit with pools  
of soft light. But it  
wasn't the loftiness of the room that caused the sense of wonder in her heart, it was the presence of every musical   
instrument ever created that caused her head to spin and her wits to leave her.   
  
She took a few hesitating steps forward, lifting a slim hand to reverently caress first a grand piano, then a cello  
and a violin. Unconcsiously, she began to hum a tune that often came to her mind when she was particularly happy or content.  
She remembered it from when she was very young, from nights when her mother had looked right at her and Ginny had  
felt nothing but comfort as the sweet melody sprang from Molly Weasley's lips. But before she had hummed the third   
note of the first bar, every instrument in the room began to play softly along, jumping into action as though some   
orchestra of ghosts had met for one final concerto especially for her. Delighted, Ginny raised her voice and began to   
sing the words that she knew so well.  
  
  
Lennavanmo Lennavanmo who is it swinging you to and fro  
With a long low swing and a sweet low croon  
loving words of a mother's rune  
Lennavanmo Lennavanmo who is it swinging you to and fro.  
  
I am thinking it is an Angel fair  
The Angel that looks on the gulf from the lowest stair.  
And swings the green world upward by its leagues of sunshine hair  
Lennavanmo Lennavanmo who swingeth you and the Angel to and fro.  
  
It is he whose faintest thought is a world afar  
It is He whose wish is a seven-mooned leaping star  
It is He Lennavanmo to whom you and I and all things flow  
Lennavanmo Lennavanmo  
It is only a little wee lass that you are  
Eilidh mo chree  
  
When the last word faded from the air, Ginny took a deep breath and realized that, for the first time in a long  
time, she felt genuinely happy. She had loved to sing when she was a child, but the singing talent had always  
belonged to her mother and it had interfered with her own defining silence, so she had eventually given it up. This was the  
first time in years and years that she had lifted her voice in song and she found that she had forgotten the inner contentment  
that it brought. This contentment had lasted all of three seconds before she heard a sardonic voice say from behind her:  
  
"Well, well, well. Who would've guessed that the littlest Weasel would also have the biggest voice?"  
  
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Draco let out another string of creative curses when he found his plans ruined again. How on earth had she   
managed to slip away this time? She had been right there less than ten seconds ago! Angry and frustrated, he strode  
over to the section of wall he had seen her leaning against last and kicked it with all of his Quidditch playing strength.  
Unfortunately for him, the strength of his blow created a great amount of momentum and, as he wasn't prepared for   
the wall giving away beneath his foot, he found himself flying at a great velocity through the unknown darkness.  
  
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'What is that sound?'   
  
The thought rose up to him from a surrounding darkness. It was beautiful, like he'd always imagined faerie voices would sound when he was  
younger and still believed in faeries. The blackness paled to grey and suddenly he could make out the  
words that the clear voice was singing...it was the same lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was a very small boy! The same lullaby  
that had soothed a child tortured by nightmares and comforted his troubles. For a moment he was disoriented,  
and the world spun from a vision of his room as it had appeared years ago to a large hall with a hard, cool floor. Then the  
grey ness evaporated entirely and Draco found himself lying on his back and suffering from a splitting headache. Muttering  
an oath, he sat up gingerly holding a hand to his head and as he moved, he realized that one part of his dream had remained. The  
sweet voice was still reverberating through the high ceilings. His interest piqued, Draco stood with still more muffled expletives and  
took several cautious steps around a giant bass drum. His mind reeled as he saw a red haired siren, mouth open and face suffused with warmth,   
pouring her heart out into the surrounding space. He felt a sense of wonder rise up into his throat and, surprised and confused, stamped it out  
with more effort than was strictly necessary. He had a sneer fixed firmly on his face and a cutting line ready when the last note died.  
  
"Well, well, well. Who would've guessed that the littlest Weasel would also have the biggest voice?"  
  
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Sorry, bit of a cliffhanger there. I'll try to update as soon as I can, but my weekend is looking a little packed. Expect the next  
installment to appear no later than late Monday. I promise, it'll be worth it. I'm done with chapters of strictly character development, next  
chapter look for pure Ginny/Draco interaction. Should be fun, no? And soon after that we'll have appearances by fellow Gryffindors and Slytherins  
alike, so never fear. Ok, that's all. 


	5. Chapter 5

Holy cow! I'm now up to 24 reviews...I can't even express my joy. And they're all nice   
reviews, too! You are all my heroes. I encourage anybody who's enjoying my story to go   
check out my reviewer's stuff, as I've read samples from each of them and am very impressed.  
  
KeeperOfTheMoon (twice, how great! Thanks for coming back to read my fourth chapter!),   
Lynn-chan (again, you're so funny. Very hyper, too.), cherries, animegirl-mika (for the   
second time, thanks bunches!), PATIENCE101 (for the third and fourth time...I think you   
win the most reviews award), kaze (again! I like the lullaby, too), Annie Christopher   
(again as well and another fan of the lullaby), Grania the fire witch, sky, and Krista   
of StarTress (told you I'd update by Monday night!). You guys are fantastic!   
  
Extra special thanks goes to animegirl-mika and Annie Christopher for reading and reviewing   
my other story, Shine, crappy though it may be. Kudos for managing to get through it without puking!  
  
All right, on to other business:  
  
First up, the few non-English words in the lullaby are Gaelic, I believe. One of the reasons I chose the   
lullaby is that I imagine the Weasley's to have a lot of Irish in their blood, so I figured a Celtic  
lullaby would by appropriate. So there's the answer to that question.  
  
Second: Thanks for waiting for me to post this chapter. It's a little bit longer than the previous  
ones, but I didn't have time to proof it as carefully as I usually do, so please forgive and mistakes.  
Also, I did rush a bit with a few parts and I'm not altogether happy with them. So if I get a few spare   
moments in the future, I may edit this chapter further.  
  
Third: Hopefully I'll be able to continue updating at the very least every other day for this week,  
but next week is exams, so I'll be a bit preoccupied with that. However, afterwards is Christmas hols,  
so I promise many a long chapters in that interim. Just giving you all fair warning.  
  
Fourth: I have no idea why my computer is formatting so strangely. Any advice on the matter would  
be greatly appreciated. Im currently running a virus scan, but it's going to be awhile, so I figured  
I'd post this, warts and all.  
  
Hmm, I think that's it. Sorry that took so long, just had to clear up a few things. Thanks for all  
of your support and PLEASE keep the reviews coming. They're my motivation to continue writing and  
are all phenomenally helpful. Now, on with the show!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, neither is Destruction of the Seven Endless, he belongs to Neil Gaimen and can be   
found in the graphic novel series, "The Sandman". Check it out.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
"What...what are you doing here?" Ginny was proud that she kept most of the tremor out of her   
voice.  
  
"Now there's a stupid question, isn't it, Weasel? I'm here because I was following you, obviously.  
Although I didn't expect to have the great fortune of being the only person alive ever to see   
you open your mouth." sneered Draco, the sarcasm dripping from his lips.  
  
"Please...leave me alone. I swear last night I was just confused ...I heard a scream...I was   
trying to help." she stammered  
  
A light leapt into his eyes and he took three great strides toward her.  
  
"Of course! Ever the Gryffindor at heart, aren't we? Too brave and valient to leave me well   
enough alone and mind your own damn business!"  
  
Ginny's eyes widened and any thought of fear was lost as she realized what he had just subtley   
admitted too.  
  
"So it really was you that I heard! When I saw you there I thought I must have made some sort of   
mistake...I...I didn't think that you could make a noise that human."  
  
Deep chocolate eyes stared up at him, disregarding fear of hands and eyes alike, boring into his   
head until Draco felt quite exposed and quickly looked away.  
  
"Well you're right Weasley, you WERE wrong. It wasn't me. I suppose Ms. Gryffindor abandoned some   
poor wretch to lonrliness or worse because she was so busy obsessing over Potter that she couldn't  
follow a noise correctly!" That came out harsher than he'd meant it, but he'd had to cover up for  
his momentary weakness.  
  
Stunned, she staggered backward as if by some physical blow. Then she visibly took hold of   
herself. She would not let Draco Malfoy do this to her and she wouldn't hide from his stare.  
It was one thing to fade into the background because that's what everyone expected of you.   
It was quite another to be bullied into cowering. Ginny had often wondered why the Sorting   
Hat had placed her (apparently) meek little soul into the House of a lion's courage. Had she  
seen the fire that sprang into her eyes at that moment, she would have had her answer.  
  
"Say what you want, Malfoy." she spit the words at him. "But I know the truth now. Every one   
else knows that you're a liar, a prat and a spiteful bastard. But I know something so much   
worse. I know what I heard in that scream, Draco Malfoy. I heard pain. I heard sorrow. I heard   
fear." Her face was flushed and her breath was coming quickly. Her eyes flashed daggers and she   
was scared spitless at the words that were pouring out of her mouth, but she was powerless to   
stop the flood. "Be careful Malfoy. I know your 'dirty' little secret. You may keep it hidden   
from your so-called friends. You may hide it from your disgrace of a father...but you can't mask  
it from me. You feel human emotions just like the rest of us 'mere mortals' and what you've been   
feeling is terror. You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. I don't know what you're afraid of, but you're  
a coward all the same!"  
  
Now it was his turn to stumbled backward, but as he did his foot caught on the edge of a tuba   
and he sat down hard on the cold floor. When he looked up and saw her advancing figure, he   
caught his breath. Lit from behind, her hair seemed to glow with all the fires of Hell. Her   
eyes stabbed into his head and he felt that she knew every secret hope, fear or desire that he   
had locked away in the darkest corner of his brain. She lifted her arms, gesticulating in a   
graceful rage as her tirade continued on and the light silhouetted her, lending an otherworldly  
gleam to her shape. She looked like the first Goddess of War, like the personification of   
nature's wrath, like Destruction of the seven Endless...and as she drew closer to him, Draco   
felt a stab of fear worming its way into his heart. At least, until what she had been saying   
suddenly became clear to him.  
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Ginny's words cut off abruptly. The room around her screamed in silence except for the roaring   
of the blood in her veins, as she was staring at the most terrifying thing in her world. She had  
seen herself ranting at Draco in a sort of third person. She could hear the words she was saying,  
see the way his eyes widened in shock as he tripped and fell and felt the anger and volume of her   
words growing. She had watched his eyes grow fuzzy and almost warm as he looked at her and then   
seen them snap back into focus with the look that caused her breath to stop.  
  
He stood in one graceful motion, his eyes never leaving her face. Ginny suddenly remembered how   
much she didn't like to be looked at under any circumstances, bullying or otherwise, and took a   
step backward. He took a measured step forward, his face completely blank...but oh those eyes.   
Those eyes pushed her back another pace. But he per sued her again, still without any outward sign  
of agitation. The calmer his face, the more terrified she was and she abandoned dignity and   
courage alike to flee in the opposite direction as fast as she could.  
  
"It's no use running Weasel. You don't know the way out any better than I do." The drawling voice  
echoed about the chamber and stopped her in her tracks.  
  
She turned slowly, barely daring to look up at the pale, statuesque figure advancing towards her.  
  
"He's really got quite a nice body." she thought crazily, as her breath began coming out in short,  
panicked pants. It was odd how the strangest details came to mind when you were about to be   
murdered in cold blood.  
  
His face was no longer blank. In fact, there was a smile plastered all over it that Ginny really,  
REALLY didn't like the looks of...  
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Oh, he was going to enjoy this.  
  
He was going to enjoy repaying her for every single problem she had caused him over the last 24   
hours, from the mammoth to the minute.  
  
"Come here, Weasel. I promise if you come to me by your own power it will be much easier on you."  
  
The delicious terror on her face was enough to send a cold smirk onto his pale lips. He could   
see her warring with herself over what to do. Surely by now she had to realize that running away  
again was pointless, she could run as long as she wanted, he had all the time in the world. No   
one knew they were down here, and no one would miss either of them. And yet she still wasn't   
moving. The damned stubborn Weasel!  
  
"I said come here!"  
  
She started at the volume of his voice, but fixed her features in a firm cast and sat down   
insolently on the ground.  
  
She was going to pay extra hard for this.  
  
"Fine then. If that's the way you want it to be, that's the way it will be." he said as he strode  
over to her. He had the momentary satisfaction of seeing her shrink away in terror before he grabbed a fistful of her copper tresses and yanked her to her feet. She cried out in pain before she could stifle the noise in a stupid attempt   
at bravery as he dragged her over to where he had been standing before and sent her crashing back  
to the floor. So great was the force of his throw that she slid several feet before coming to a   
stop. Much to his surprise, however, she didn't stay huddled in a ball on the floor. Instead, she  
pushed herself to her hands and knees and glared up at him through long eyelashes.  
  
"What are you going to try to do to me?"  
  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
'I will not make a sound, I will not make a sound...' Ginny repeated this to herself over and   
over again as Malfoy pulled her across the room by her hair. She wouldn't give him the   
satisfaction of hearing her weakness. She clung to that even as she felt herself propelled   
through the air and held onto that resolution as she hit the ground much harder than she was   
comfortable with. Despite the fear coursing through her system and the ache in her limbs, she   
pulled herself to her hands and knees and forced her eyes to meet his.  
  
"What are you going to try to do to me?"  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
It was the 'try' that got to him. That, and the light that turned her eyes from chocolate to   
amber as she stared up. Never before had anyone so easily pierced through his carefully wrought   
facade and he could feel himself crumbling under her gaze. Disturbed, he turned away,   
accidentally catching a glimpse of himself in the highly polished surface of the grand piano.   
Pure rage and hate had twisted his features and blended with a sneer he had been born with.   
But it wasn't the sight of the raw emotions painted across his face that caused his heart to   
thump painfully against his ribcage. For a split second he had been staring into the face of his  
father. Cold and cruel, uncaring and unendingly wrathful, Lucius Malfoy had mocked his son's   
inevitable future of following in Daddy's footsteps from the smooth black surface of the piano.  
  
"No!" he said aloud, causing Ginny to jump in alarm.  
  
He glanced over at her, doing her best to be brave even though she was terrified, and felt a   
strange sensation. Self disgust, certainly, but that hadn't been odd since that terrible night   
last summer. But this new emotion...it flickered through his head, tickled it's way into his   
veins and he was almost positive that he didn't like it. He felt...protective...was the only way   
to describe it. Protective of this sniveling mess lying in front of him! Him! Draco Malfoy! But   
still...it was there.  
  
"Get up." he said roughly, doing his best to mask the strange feeling. She looked up at him   
doubtfully, those damned eyes still drilling into his and he felt himself soften. This was   
getting ludicrous! 'No more!' he thought. 'She can bloody well stay down there if she's so   
comfortable!'   
  
He stood there impatiently, looking down at her for all of half a second before he reached his   
hand out and pulled her gently to her feet.  
  
"Get that look off your face." he said gruffly. "I'm not going to do anything to you."  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Ginny stood poised on the balls of her feet, ready to flee at any sign of aggression from her   
captor. Though she fought against it with every fiber of her being, stark terror was plain on   
her pale, freckled countenance.  
  
"Get that look off your face. I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
He said it in a low voice that didn't seem in the least menacing. Still, she couldn't bring   
herself to accept this incredibly bizarre tournabout. 'He must have something planned. Draco   
Malfoy would never sound...apologetic.' she thought. Her mind racing furiously and she came to   
the conclusion that, if there was going to be an all out pitched battle, it might as well come   
when she chose it to.  
  
"Oh really? Not going to hurt me? Is that why you're throwing me about the room like a rag doll?   
Why you're pulling out half of my hair? You'd better watch out, Malfoy," now she hissed the words  
through gritted teeth, "or you'll end up all alone, a Death Eater faithfully licking the hand of   
a fallen master...just like your father!"  
  
"I AM NOT LIKE MY FATHER!" the words bounced harshly off the walls and ceiling, ringing in her ears.  
  
At that explosive admission, Ginny's jaw dropped almost as far as Draco's, before he clapped a   
hand over his mouth and, with a horrified look in his eyes, sped off into the darkness.  
  
She knew after looking at the agony in his grey orbs that she really shouldn't push him any   
further, but his recent behavior towards her let her tongue go free. Using a bit of dramatic  
irony, she called into the distance:  
  
"It's no use running, Ferret. You don't know the way out any better than I do."  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
He never lost control. He was Draco Malfoy. A Malfoy. And Malfoy's didn't lose control. They   
especially didn't lose control of their tongue at the pathetic attempts to abrade by a miserable   
little Weasel! Therefore, he had not just blurted out his darkest secret to his greatest enemy.   
Logically, it wasn't possible.  
  
So why was he running?  
  
'Stupid prat! Idiot! Fool!' These were also not words that ran through a Malfoy's head, but Draco  
decided that he was an exception to that particular rule at the moment and continued on with his   
self beratement.  
  
How could he have done that? It was one thing to look into her eyes and think she knew all of his  
secrets. It was quite another to speak those secrets aloud. Damn him, damn his father and damn  
all things Weasley! That damned night some five months ago had been working on him in ways that   
he didn't like in the least, changing his opinions, his feelings and now, apparently, his ability  
to hold his tongue.  
  
To add insult to injury, he could feel a very tiny part of his...soul, he supposed you'd call it,  
that seemed to be a bit lighter than usual. As though part of the burden he'd been carrying for   
so long had floated away. That was impossible! No way that an admission spoken in moment of   
carelessness could ever possibly effect him that way. Especially not when it was directed at  
a Weasley!  
  
'I will die before I let myself be helped by or indebted to a Weasley.' he thought, quite seriously.  
Then, out of the blackness separating him from that red headed annoyance, words floated into his   
ears.  
  
"It's no use running Ferret. You don't know the way out any better than I do."  
  
How on Earth did she know about that?!  
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
"You might as well come back and help me find a way out of here," she called out. "That way we'd   
never have to see each other again. Wouldn't that be nice?"  
  
She was trying to use a sugary sweet voice in an attempt to coax him back into view. Unfortunately,  
it was coming out as more of a screech as her nerves were shot and she knew she really did need   
him if she ever hoped to escape.  
  
"No need to shout, Weasel. It's a most unbecoming trait." drawled a voice from behind her.  
  
With a shriek she tried to climb into the air and spin around at the same time. This caused   
some problems with balance and she found herself in a very uncomfortable proximity to the shapely   
face of one Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Besides," he very nearly purred. "I'm right here..." as he very gently tweaked the tip of her nose.  
  
Ginny's eyes fogged over for a minute, lost in sensation, before she took a very quick, very   
nervous step backward. And then another step, just for good measure.  
  
"Well," she squeaked. Blushing magenta, she cleared her throat and started again, this time on a   
much more attractive key. "Well. The only other time I've been in a secret chamber, I was mostly   
unconscious. But it seems to me that there must be a tunnel or something leading out of here. Isn't   
that a sort of cliche that all hidden rooms have?" she peeked up nervously at the smirking visage  
of the boy towering over her. "Uh...right?"  
  
"Hmm...I'm very impressed to hear you making actual words, Weasel. I didn't think you had it in   
you. I'm also quite surprised at the fact that you're no longer jumping like the scruffy little   
rabbit you so resemble whenever I look at you. However, your logic is irredeemably bad, so I   
suppose I had better take over this little escape mission."  
  
At his words Ginny forced herself to stand taller and meet his gaze, even going so far as to put   
on an affronted expression when he defamed her logic.  
  
"The first thing you've got to know about secret chambers is that the way out is very nearly   
always hidden. It could be anywhere. What's more, the device that activates the opening of the   
exit is comparably concealed, usually in a completely opposite location." He began walking confidently  
about the large room, secure in his surety that, whatever he lacked in knowledge on other matters,   
hidden passages, shrouded rooms and covert hideaways were his specialty. After all, he had learned   
at the feet of the master, however that might grate.  
  
"Now, since this is a room apparently devoted to music, my guess is that we'll have to play some   
sort of code on one of these instruments in order to activate the exit. Of course, playing the   
wrong code could arouse a nasty curse, so we'll have to be exceedingly careful. So tell me, what   
do you know about music?" He turned smugly towards her, impressed and pleased with himself.   
"Well?" he said, when she didn't answer. "Where'd you wander off to, Weasel?" he yelled. "Get   
yourself lost looking for your ridiculous 'magic tunnel'? Hello? Weasel?"  
  
From far in the distance, her voice wafted back to him.  
  
"Well, I don't know much about music," she called drily, "But you might want to check out the   
passageway across from the piano. It leads into the hallway below the Astronomy Tower. See you   
around!" With a vindictive and delighted giggle, her taunting ended and her voice faded away.  
  
For the first time in a long time,Draco Malfoy found himself with a genuine smile on his face.   
Chagrined, yes...but it was still a smile. 


	6. Chapter 6

Wow wow wow...34 reviews. You are all my favorite people in the world. Big thanks to fyrechild,   
fuschia, kitala, lynn-chan (you're so funny!), Grania the fire witch and elissa.   
Not much to say here, except that this was written last night, but my computer exploded so I was a  
bit delayed. I hope you like this chapter, I had fun writing some characters that weren't Ginny  
and Draco. So let me know how I did!  
  
As usual, if you review mine, I'll review yours. Just make sure you give me a signed review so I  
know who you are!   
  
Oh, and the ..................... lines towards the end of this chapter differentiate between  
Draco's dream self and his separate subconscious. Thanks, that's all.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
"Fibra."  
  
Ginny could barely keep her voice to it's normal low whisper  
as she spoke the Gryffindor password. She was absolutely exultant at the   
thought that she, a nobody little Weasley, had bested Draco Malfoy in a   
battle of wits. Of course, underneath all the excitement, she felt an   
undercurrent of anxiety. She had seen how violent and angry he has gotten  
when she had inadvertently embarrassed him...she hoped he wouldn't be even  
worse now that she had purposefully humiliated him. However, she somehow  
didn't think he would be. Her exceptional talent for blending in had resulted  
in an increased sensitivity to the moods and thoughts of those surrounding her.   
She had glimpsed something in his eyes that had truly frightened her when he threw  
her across the floor, but afterwards she had seen a kind of warmth and -as hard as  
it may be to believe- protectiveness when he had helped her gently to her feet.  
He was a puzzle, Draco Malfoy was, and Ginny had always been fascinated by puzzles.  
  
Lost in her rather confused, but pleased thoughts, Ginny stepped through  
the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. She was so distracted by her   
encounter in the music hall that she forgot completely to bow her head and take the  
small, silent steps that would render her invisible to the casual glance. Instead, she  
entered the threshold with head up, eyes sparkling and hair glistening, with a spring  
in her step and a flush to her cheeks. She really looked quite lovely, although she  
would never believe it. However, she realized her error before anyone else could and  
very quickly blurred herself into some semblance of a shadow.  
  
She shuffled over to the corner where everyone's favorite trio were sitting. Out of  
all of her older brothers, Ginny had always felt closest to Ron. They were almost   
equal in age and, although he had never stated it expressly, she felt like he   
understood her struggle for individuality the best. Therefore, since she had no friends  
of her own at Hogwarts, she dutifully played the part of tagalong, pesky little sister,   
always interrupting the schemes and dreams of their impenetrable friendship. Still, she  
enjoyed being near them when she could. They exuded a warmth and deep affection,   
but more importantly, there was such a predictability about them. You could always count  
on Ron to say something ridiculous and try (in his very awkward way) to cheer you up. You  
could count on Hermione to look at you in that mildly infuriating condescending manner  
and tell you that all of your problems could be laid at the feet of adolescence. And Harry...  
well, you could depend on Harry to look at you with those heartbreaking green eyes and  
smile into your soul. That was why she had fallen in love with him. It was that he seemed to   
see through her defenses and into the Ginny she kept hidden that made her feel alive, important and even  
beautiful. But the bitter truth was that that was the only way Harry could look at people.  
His past suffering had created in him a compassion for everyone he met that was quite unusual for boys his age.   
Unfortunately, by the time she had learned that, it had been too late and she was head over heels in love.  
It wasn't the sort of puppy love that one could get over with a few tearful nights and a box  
of chocolates. Not only was it her first experience with the emotion, but it was the kind of   
affection that strikes so hard that even years and experience will never dull it. She still  
acutely felt the painful ache in her chest whenever she looked at him.  
  
These were the thoughts that were running through her head as she knelt subtly outside their circle,  
waiting and watching. She looked at Harry for a good long time, unobserved. He was truly beautiful.  
Everything that a teenage girl could dream of: charming, mysterious, tragic, heroic and unendingly  
modest, but he was also still a bit of a mystery to Ginny. Ron and Hermione she had figured out long  
since, only updating the information she already had on them. Harry, though...she had a feeling  
that she could never quite see into the hidden darkness that dimmed those emerald eyes. Her usual  
favorite past time was staring into the deep pools, watching the emotion fill up and drain out of them  
trying to figure them out while drinking in their beauty. Today, however, she was utterly surprised  
when she found herself comparing them to a pair that were their polar opposite. Where Harry's eyes were  
always dancing with life, these other eyes were stone; in color, inflection and emotion.  
  
'How strange,' she thought 'that Malfoy's eyes should remind me of Harry's. They're really nothing  
at all alike.' And she set her mind on the conundrum. She retraced her every move and word of the last  
24 hours and she remembered everything he said to her. As she recalled their mini adventure of that   
afternoon, some of the life and color she had obscured on her entrance into the Common Room crept  
back into her cheeks, unbeknownst to her. Eventually, her usual mask of effacement dropped away completely  
and Harry, who had let his gaze stray from his two companions, caught a glimpse of a thoroughly transformed  
Ginny.  
  
"Hey, Gin! Did you just get here? We were talking about the next Quidditch game against Slyterin." Harry's  
rather clumsy attempt at courtesy called her thoughts back to the present and her heart gave a   
painful little thump in her chest as she briefly met his eyes..  
  
'I know.' she thought sadly to herself. 'I've been here all along.' She wasn't referring to the conversation.  
  
"Yeah, I just got here." she said softly to him, but by then he had turned away.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Draco walked back to the entrance to the Slytherin's dungeon entrance. For the first time in ages, he simply walked.  
No swagger, no anger, no pain. He walked with a thoughtful look that didn't quite fit on his aristocratic  
features. Ginny Weasley was a mystery to him. Moreover, his reaction to Ginny Weasley was a mystery to him. That is  
to say, she infuriated him as much as any other Weasley, what with her handmedown robes and tattered books defaming  
the name of wizard. But there was something in the way her eyes met his. It was a ridiculous thing to think, but he  
could swear that she saw him for more than face value. Obviously, that was completely without reason...but still.   
And then there was the fact that, although she had humiliated him several times in the last day, the inborn rage that never failed to   
assert itself onto the source of such disrespect was disturbingly absent. A lot had changed about Draco Malfoy since the summer, but some things  
were so constant that he didn't think anything short of death could change them. Well, death and a certain annoying red  
head. He wasn't even aware of the slight smile that quirked his lips as he thought of the way she had glared up at him  
back in the music room. The little Weasel throwing a temper tantrums was one of the funniest things he had ever seen. His  
mind quickly glossed over the fact that, at the time, she had been no little intimidating.  
  
"Eerzucht."  
  
Draco had reached the entrance to the dungeon common room and quietly spoke the password, the smile still haunting  
his face. The serpent that protected the Slytherin lair swiftly uncoiled and wriggled around the wall in a previously  
unnoticeable outline. When it had made a full circuit, the oval it had traced swung silently inward and the green light that  
was ever present in Draco's home away from home poured into the darkened hallway. He stepped through silently, taking a few   
moments to observe his housemates. Most of them were talking in animated conversation, some were lounging lazily on the several  
sofas. Suddenly realizing that he hadn't blanked his face of emotion upon crossing the threshold, Draco let his smile die.  
  
Pansy noticed him first and, with a widening of her eyes, fell silent. Then, one by one, they all turned to stare up at him  
until the room seemed to echo in silence. One day he expected they would all stand up and perform some ridiculous salute. That was the way he wanted it.   
He couldn't imagine the consequences if even a single one of them learned of the events five months ago. It could be disastrous.  
Fixing a sneer that felt much more comfortable than the half smile, Draco waved them all aside like so much trash and strode arrogantly  
to his dorm room. He slammed the door and turned to face the only place that felt like home these days, taking in it's simple decor all  
done in green and silver, as was fitting. Looking out the window, he surmised that he had spent at least two hours in that hole with  
the carrot topped brat, as it was now fully dark outside. Suddenly exhausted, Draco dropped onto his bed, only bothering to remove his  
shoes. Having to deal with his house mates was getting to be more and more difficult as his disgust for them and the servile attitude they possessed mounted.  
He still had to be the leader on the outside, the epitome of a future Death Eater, ever the impeccable Slytherin. But the disturbed dreams  
that kept repeating the events of last summer kept the memories fresh in his head and he couldn't force himself to forget. How easy it would   
be to chalk everything he had seen and heard up to his imagination, to make the words that haunted him disappear and to go on as he had before,  
blissfully unaware and sure that his future was set securely in front of him.  
  
He missed knowing who he was. He missed other people knowing who he was. Maybe that was why the penetrating looks of Ginny Weasley  
affected him the way they did. Why they had him following the brat down hallways and into secret rooms, had him throwing her around and  
then helping her to her feet...had him smiling for the first time in months.  
  
Unable to take the strain of confusion, his mind shut down and Draco found himself fast asleep.  
..................................................................................................................................................................  
  
The door to his father's study was closed, the mahogany gleaming faintly in the dim candlelight.  
  
.................................................................................................................................................................  
'No.' Draco's unconscious mind begged. 'Please, not again.' But his plea fell on silent ears and he found himself being inexorably pulled forward.  
...................................................................................................................................................................  
  
Upon closer inspection, Draco's dream form could see that the door was cracked just a hair and he could hear muffled voices coming  
from inside. One belonged to his father, hard and crisp. The other was slightly slurred and unctuous. Draco didn't recognize it.   
  
.................................................................................................................................................................  
"Please!" In his dorm, his sleeping form made pathetic whimpering noises.  
  
.................................................................................................................................................................  
  
Back in the dream, Draco put his eye up to the crack of light and listened carefully, unobserved.  
  
"Well, Peter? What is it you want? What is it that was so urgent that you had to disturb me in the middle of the night?"  
  
"I'd be careful if I were you, Lucius." said the newly identified voice. "Blessed am I who was our Master's most loyal and obedient servant. Need I remind  
you that the Great Lord still does not look kindly on his supposed 'followers' who abandoned him just when his need was the greatest? I do not think  
I do. But that is precisely why I am here."  
  
  
.................................................................................................................................................................  
'Peter Pettigrew...Peter...no, please no more.' Draco pleaded in his subconscious.  
  
.................................................................................................................................................................  
  
"What are you talking about? Do you dare to threaten me?" But Lucius' voice was not so commanding and sure as it usually was, in fact, he sounded...afraid.  
  
"Our Master demands...amends." said Peter. "He is allowing you out of all of the Death Eaters that have forsaken him one final chance to enter again into  
his good graces. This chance is not to be taken for granted. It has recently come to the Great Lord's attention that your son, Draco, I believe?" he paused  
for confirmation. "Yes, Draco. There has been a prophesy that has long troubled our master, a prophesy of the defeat of darkness at the hands of light. Of  
course, it is as cryptically phrased as all prophesies. 'When the light of the sky pours upon the dark of the sea' and all that none sense. However, there is  
one line which has just recently been interpreted by the magical world's premiere soothsayer. The line goes something like this:  
  
'When the moon brings forth the son  
And the dragon's fire wreaths the sky  
Thus shall the light of good join together  
to triumph over evil'  
  
Here, Peter chuckled. Peering into the room, Draco could see his father's face. TO his surprise it was quite paler than usual. Only Draco, who knew his father   
well, could tell that Lucius Malfoy was doing his best to hide immeasurable fear behind that stony exterior.  
  
"Silly, isn't it?" Peter continued. "Of course, it's been translated through several languages, so it's a bit distorted. But you get the idea. To get   
back to the matter at hand though...This prophetess attached a name to the son of the moon and, wonder of wonders, she came up with your young Draco.   
Therefore, the Great Lord is offering you the chance to win back his favor by a simple action. You must continue training Draco as though he will be initiated into our ranks  
on his 18th birthday. When the night of the induction comes, however, he will instead be sacrificed by yourself in a manner that will not only rid our Lord of a dangerous  
traitor, but also help him in regaining his previous power. What do you say to that?"  
  
Draco's heart was pounding in his chest. This couldn't be true...he...he would never betray his master. He had been taught by his father's fists and feet   
that betrayal could be deadly. He had never had a choice about what would happen to him. If he didn't join the ranks of the Death Eaters, he would die. Since  
anything was preferable to dying, Draco had put all of his energies to be the best damned bad guy he could be. But now...now this man was asking his father to   
kill him no matter what. 'Damned if I do, damned if I don't' he thought crazily as his mind reached for answers amid the swirling questions. All of this in the   
split second before he saw his father begin to open his mouth. Then Draco listened with all of his might.  
  
'Surely now Father is going to tell this man that I would never betray the Great Lord, that I am the epitome of a future Death Eater and that he certainly can't   
kill his own son.' Lucius Malfoy had never displayed any type of fatherly tenderness towards his son, in fact, he had shown Draco quite the opposite. But their  
must be some sort of bond buried under the layers of hate that would prevent the cold, cruel murder of his heir. This hopeful thought lasted as long as it took  
Lucius to gather breath before he stated his answer.  
  
"Well of course if the boy is a traitor he must be...got rid of." Draco's stomach lurched at the speed and surety of his Father's response.  
  
"Please tell the Dark Lord that I am thrilled and thankful to be allowed to show my allegiance in such a way as will benefit our cause and restore the  
rightful master to power." Lucius said smoothly, causing Draco's head to swim. He swayed from side to side, dizzy from the shock.  
  
"I'm sure he will be...pleased...to hear..." Peter's voice cut off as both men snapped around at the thump from outside the door, drawing their wands.  
  
"CRUCIO!" they both cried in tandem.  
  
Draco's world exploded in a white hot pain. 


	7. Chapter 7

I can't believe I'm at 44 reviews. Pretty soon I'm going to run out of words that can describe how shocked   
and happy I am. But until then, I'd like to send my thanks to:   
  
nessa, bellus-qui, daWOODisONfire, Krista of StraTress (thanks so much for your multiple reviews),   
Gryphnwng, The Golden Goose (please don't die! you're much too talented!), KeeperOfTheMoon (sorry  
about the cliffhanger), fyrechild (author of a very good fic entitled Wings of Flame) and Thea the Elf   
(post a story!)and depth.  
  
Hmm, not much to say about this chapter, except that it's a bit longer than usual. Also, it explains   
a few things that I might not have made clear last chapter. I'm just relieved that we're finally   
getting to a plot after SIX chapters. Sorry there isn't much G/D interaction in this one, I had to   
do some major explaining and didn't really have time. I promise there will be oodles next time!  
  
Expect the next chapter no later than late Saturday.  
  
Please please please review and let me know how I'm doing! Good or bad, it doesn't matter. Let me know  
what you love and what you hate and (as always) I'll do the same for you. But the reviews would be much  
appreciated as I'm still not sure what angle to send this story in. More adventure or more romance?  
Should I have a bit of a jealous Harry? Should I have more Draco or more Ginny? What about Quidditch and  
classes? These are things I can't decide on, so it would be great if you could give me your opinions.  
  
Ok, I think that's it.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
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Draco sat up, heart pounding in his chest and sweat pouring off of him in buckets. Panting  
heavily, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. It was a   
position he had found himself in all too often in the nights that had passed since he had been   
hit by the double curse. At least he had managed to wake up before the scene in which, amid blows  
raining down on him from all sides, he pleaded with his father that he hadn't heard anything.   
Obviously, his word alone would never be good enough for Lucius and he had quickly forced some of  
his personal stash of Veritaserum down Draco's throat. Luckily enough for him, being hit by a   
magnified Unforgivable Curse had left him with a slight case of amnesia. He really hadn't remembered  
hearing anything and so his father, very grudgingly, took his testimony as proof. Draco's bout  
of forgetfulness was abolished the instant he sank into a dizzy sleep, anxious to escape from the  
nausea the curse had caused. When he awoke, sweaty and breathing heavily, he had assumed the   
position he was in currently and tried to sort through what his fogged mind would allow him to focus on.  
It didn't take him long to decide that keeping back the rediscovered information from his father   
was the only wise course of action, that wasn't the hard part. What set his hands to trembling  
and blanched what little color there was left in his face was the sudden uncertainty of his future. He  
had grown up knowing that the Dark Lord must be returned to power and that he, Draco, must become  
a loyal Death Eater. He knew both things MUST happen because if they did not, Draco would most  
likely die by his father's hand. This knowledge, given to him at a young age, had not had the best  
effect on his mind, but it had created in him a sense of security in the protection he would gain  
once he was initiated. All of the jealousy he felt over Potter's success, all the anger he felt   
towards Granger and her flagrant impurity...well, none of that would matter when he held the reins  
of power while standing next to the most feared wizard in the world. All that had changed after  
that warm summer night. Now, he found himself the unwilling enemy of the only protection he could   
ever hope for. Which, however obscurely, also put him on the same side as the people he had so long  
tormented and fought against. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to say the least. However, it was not  
the Malfoy way to lose control and, although Draco didn't think he could be a Malfoy much longer, it  
was the way he had been brought up. So he gathered his wits together in the early hours of the morning   
after the incident and had come up with what had to be done. He kept the list in his trunk, written  
in an ink that was only legible to himself. On it, he stated that most importantly and under no  
circumstances whatsoever could his father find out that he knew about the plan. That was about as  
far a she had gotten with his list so far. He knew that, eventually, he would either have to join  
the fight against Voldemort or flee for his life into obscurity. Neither of those choices seemed  
appetizing to a boy who had been taught he was better than virtually the entire world. So he had been  
putting off his decision and putting off his decision and the day of his eighteenth birthday was looming  
ever nearer.  
  
However, something else had happened to Draco that fateful night that had given him reason to   
delay his choice. The Unforgivable Curses were not meant to be cast on a person by more than one  
wizard at a time but since the curses were outlawed, not much research had been done on their effects.  
No one knew very much about any of the curses, but Draco, perhaps, knew the most out of anybody.  
After the blinding white agony had cleared from his eyes and the blows from his father's cane and  
boots had ceased, Draco had felt a strange buzzing coursing through his veins. Unused to such a   
sensation but still suffering from amnesia, he hadn't been able to identify the feeling properly  
and so had pushed it out of mind. When he woke up later that night he was too busy trying to   
figure out what to do with his immediate future that it stayed locked up in that corner of his brain.   
It had been there for several weeks, forgotten and un remarked, when Draco, in a fit of panic and  
anger that was completely out of character, began storming about his apartments, cursing furiously  
in his head and sometimes out loud. Staring through a malevolent red haze that clouded his vision and numbed  
his wits, he hadn't heard the shattering and screeching that followed in his wake. When he spun   
around to make his return march he stopped suddenly, feeling anger melt away to be replaced by   
fearful shock. His rooms were in shambles. Glass, shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, was strewn  
about the carpet, metal lamp fixtures and doorknobs had melted away, leaving silvery stripes down his   
pale green walls. The ceilings were leaning drunkenly in and the floor had a definite downward slope  
to it. Shock was quickly replaced by dismay when he realized how angry his father would be when he saw this,  
not so much for the waste and mess but for the evidence to his loss of control. Draco heard heavy footfalls  
approaching his doorway and had time to shut his eyes and wish vainly for everything to go back to normal when  
his father slammed the door open and stormed in.  
  
"What was going on up here?" he had said. "I thought I heard glass breaking."  
  
Draco opened one eye slowly, wincing in anticipation, then opened the other and his mouth for good measure  
and spun around, gaping in wonder. The room had completely restored itself! Recovering his wits  
as best he could, he muttered some ridiculous excuse that dispelled his father, leaving him alone  
with his own very confused thoughts. As he ponder whether or not he had imagined it all, his mind recalled  
a sensation that had been prickling just under his skin during the tirade and the few moments before his father  
had opened the door. Something about that feeling had nagged at the corner of his mind until it lodged another  
memory free and then Draco found himself faced with a whole new set of questions. Since that day he had had  
several more incidents that were similar, but he hadn't yet been able to summon it at will. It was puzzling,   
and there was nothing Draco liked less than a puzzle he couldn't solve.  
  
Snapping back to reality, Draco lifted his head from his hands and stood up, wincing at the cold  
flagstone floors that stung his bare feet. He knew from experience that he wouldn't get any more sleep that  
night. As much as he might try, whenever he closed his eyes he'd see the rage that had twisted both men's faces  
and feel again that terrible, indescribable pain. No amount of sleep was worth that. So he slipped on his shoes  
and shrugged a robe over his rumpled uniform and set out to walk the halls of Hogwarts until the sun peaked over  
the horizon.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Ginny blinked sleepily, her eyes blurry and her head confused at waking up to strange noises. She felt   
a warmth on her face and an ache in her lower back that had become all too familiar to her of late. She had taken to  
the unhealthy and slightly disturbing pattern of falling asleep in the Common Room. She had been observing people for  
so long that her body, tired from a long and unusual day of being trapped in a room with the nemesis of all things  
Gryffindor, had dropped off to sleep. Since she was even more invisible when she was unconscious than when she was  
quietly awake, no one had noticed her as they made their way to their own beds in their own dorms. They had  
unwittingly left her lying on the floor with her face towards the fire, spread out on the uncomfortable and scratchy  
carpet. She had woken up in this very same position at the very same time every night for the last week and, try as  
she might, she could never get back to sleep. Tonight, she didn't even feel like trying. Struggling to untangle herself   
from her robes, she stood up slowly and then set out for the portrait hole. It was going to be a long time until morning,  
she might as well explore some more of the castle.  
  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
He had thought his wanderings had been random and aimless, but as he walked the corridors of the school, his feet had   
led him subtly towards the hall underneath the Astronomy Tower. However, when he realized where  
he was headed, he didn't try to change his path. After all, he did like music and the opulence of  
the Music Hall (as he had taken to calling it in his head) was just suited to his tastes. He approached the more convenient   
of the room's two entrances and pushed gingerly against the marble frieze that depicted what he supposed to be a kind of   
Renaissance orchestra.It didn't budge. Emboldened, but still fearing a repeat of his last ungainly attempt at gaining  
admittance, he pushed harder. It still didn't move. Finally, he tried shoving it with all his might. Impressive though that  
may be, the door held fast. Draco scratched his head in slightly frustrated confusion. What to do? This had to open into the  
room if it opened out of it...but how? Drawing his wand, he whispered "Lumos!" and a faint green light revealed the rest of the  
engraving. Carved around the edges of the orchestra where what appeared to be mixed up piano keys at first glance. However,   
going back over them more carefully, he discerned their true identity. Draco had absolutely no head for ancient Runes and he   
had dropped the class after the first few weeks of struggling through it, but he had learned enough to recognize certain types.  
These were one of the first kinds of Runes he had learned about, the Celtic Ogham alphabet. The Ogham was written in slash marks  
that really did very much resemble the keys of a piano. 'Hmm...' Draco mused. 'This is the doorway to a music room...what could   
Celtic writings have to do with anything?' His interest piqued, Draco put his wand up to one of the Ogham letters and almost dropped  
it when a single, soft note was played. Overcoming his shock, Draco tapped several other letters, each one emitting another tone.  
Vaguely amused with his new game, he struck several letters in a certain rhythm. When the delayed notes rang out, the song that he   
had heard Weasel singing earlier echoed down the hallway. When the last note faded, the frieze swung inward, the pitch black  
hallway yawning open.   
  
Utterly confused at this stroke of luck, Draco took a wary step towards the entrance.  
  
  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Ginny stepped out of the shadows. She too, had started off wandering to no where in particular but found herself being inexorably pulled  
towards the scene of her earlier encounter. She had arrived in the corridor that gave access to the room only to find Draco Malfoy   
flinging himself at a wall in a most comedic manner. She had been hard pressed to stifle her giggles as he scratched his head in confusion.  
However, her amusement had paled when she heard the notes the stone emitted and had vanished all together when she heard him play her  
lullaby. Unable to contain her curiosity, she stepped out of the shadows where she had been hiding and, as the door swung open, asked in   
an awed voice:  
  
"How do you know my lullaby?"  
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Draco managed not to jump at the sound of her voice. Barely. He was tired of being frightened by a little kid and, after his dream, was   
definitely not in the mood to be pushed around. So he forced the quick burst of panic and, oddly enough, excitement, down and turned cooly  
to face her. The confusion and wonder on her usually expressionless face took him by surprise however and he delivered his intentionally  
stinging retort somewhat lamely.  
  
"It doesn't belong to you." he said awkwardly.  
  
"I...I know it doesn't. It's just that I was singing it before, that's all I meant." she said quietly, bowing her head. For some reason, this  
sent a spark of anger into Draco's belly and he rediscovered the strength to snap at the little redhead.  
  
"Oh don't give me that, Weasel. You can't go back to being all meek and mild now that you've shown me a temper than can rival my own. I  
won't believe it. You might be able to convince your beloved Potter of that personality, he couldn't care less anyway, but you may as well yell and scream  
at me. I already know your true colors." With that she raised her chin and threw back her shoulders. A smoldering light was in her eyes and he  
could see the way she clenched her fists inside her sleeves.  
  
"There you go! I knew you had it in you." he laughed, only mildly cruelly.  
  
It was really amazing what provoking a Weasley could do for his moods. Right now his anger and bitterness had washed away to only minor  
aches in the back of his throat. However, melancholy was still clinging to his skin like oil and he knew she could tell that his heart wasn't  
in the insults he tossed her way. Maybe that was why her response came out rather softer than he expected.  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy. I'm really not in the mood."  
  
"Well neither am I. So why don't you go away and we can both sit in peace for the rest of the night?"  
  
"Because I can't resist this place any better than you can." she said. "If you're so anxious to be alone tonight, then you do the leaving."  
  
He opened his mouth to deliver a smart retort and then closed it with a frown. 'If I'M so anxious to be alone? What about her? Isn't she dying   
to get rid of me?' His devious mind concocted several cruel phrases to taunt her with, but to his surprise he suppressed them and said:  
  
"I don't mind sharing if you don't."  
  
A look of surprise no greater than his own passed over her fair face and then she said somewhat awkwardly and haltingly:  
  
"Uh...sure. I mean, sometimes...talking it out...helps. Or so I've heard."  
  
Ugh! This was getting much to sappy for his tastes. See what Weasley's and several months without a decent night's rest could do to a man? Well,   
he was certainly done with the whole 'nice' thing!  
  
"I didn't say anything about talking, you pathetic little Weasel. Although I suppose you need to take whatever human contact you can find. Besides,  
what makes you think I want to hear about all of your problems? You'd probably babble on about your 'unrequited love for Potter' for half the night  
and that would make me physically ill. We can share this room as long as you stay on the opposite side where I can't see or hear you." He felt he   
had sufficiently made up for his earlier lapse of character. However, he felt a tiny, niggling thread of guilt when he saw her deep brown eyes   
widen in hurt shock, then narrow into a malevolent glare.  
  
"You unbelievably disgusting prat." she said, utterly calm, then turned on her heel and strode away.  
  
Draco was left with a difficult decision. Did he pursue, or did he go into the room as he had planned? He pondered for a moment, hearing her footfalls  
fade in the distance. With a huge, put upon sigh, he pushed the stone frieze shut and jogged down the corridor after that insufferable little redhead. 


	8. Chapter 8

Just might explode from glee...these are my favorite people:  
  
maLfoyS GaL paL, PATIENCE101 (twice more added to her already impressive  
number makes her one of the coolest people in the world), KeeperOfTheMoon (again, thanks!), fyrechild  
(I'll endorse ya anytime, you're muy talented!), Honeybear, VyingQuill (thanks for a really helpful   
review), kaze (hope this is enough G/D interaction for you), ArrA (your hopes will be duly noted),  
Fuschia (two very VERY helpful reviews, thank you ever so much, you are awesome!), Rebuky, chimerical  
(thank you as well for a very nice review), Lynn-chan (you still amuse me a whole lot), depth (sorry  
I confused you), The Golden Goose (yes, you really are talented!),Rambling Idiot (sorry about the cliffie)  
and BoyCrazy (thanks for the tip). Whew!  
  
Ok, this is a pretty short chapter and also pretty hastily written, so I apologize if it's terrible. I   
hope it isn't too bad. Also, next week is my exam week, so things will be crazy crazy cray. Right now,   
it looks like Thursday is a pretty likely day for the next update (I know, I know it's a long time   
please don't be mad!). It might be a bit earlier, might be a bit later, but absolutely no later than next   
Saturday, that I promise. Please don't abandon this fic because it'll be a while between updates, I love  
all of my readers and would hate to lose any of you! Keep the reviews coming, because 1) I'll review yours  
as well and 2) it'll incite me to ignore my studying and update sooner! Which isn't good for my grades, but  
oh well.  
  
Also, there is a TERRIBLE cliffhanger at the end of this chapter. I'm very sorry, it's very evil of me, but  
I was exhausted and not sure where I'm going from here. Reviews about the future of this story would be most   
welcome. Well, that's it I think, I'll see you guys in a few days (hopefully)! On with the show:  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
  
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She had been able to maintain a calm, dignified walk until she was out of his site. However, the  
instant her feet took her around the nearest corner she felt a panic well up inside of her and  
took off running, a flash of fire streaking down the corridors.  
  
Half questions formed in her mind as paintings and tapestries sped past her vision.  
  
'How could he...?'  
  
'Why would he...?'  
  
'He has no right..."  
  
'He doesn't even know...'  
  
She answered every one as ruthlessly as she slammed her feet onto the hard stone:  
  
'Because he's Draco Malfoy.'  
  
Draco Malfoy hurt people for sport. He'd done it to her often enough for it to be   
commonplace...why then, was she running through the school as though her life depended on it? It   
wasn't that he'd teased her about Harry, he'd done that ever since her first year and this was   
never the way she reacted. She might get angry or get sad, she might ignore him and walk away as  
though nothing had happened, but never before had she allowed him to affect her like this. Really,  
what else had she expected? Was she such an idiot that she actually believed that a few semi-civil  
words and some imaginary warmth in his gaze would constitute a friendship? Ginny had never thought  
of herself as stupid before, but now she quite seriously pondered that assessment.  
  
'All right, Ginny.' she coached herself. 'Calm down and stop this. He's Draco Malfoy. You don't   
care a jot about him or what he says to you, you never have before and you certainly don't now. So  
stop running and go back up to your bed like a normal person.'  
  
As usual, this had absolutely no effect on her at all. Instead, she realized that a warm wetness was  
seeping down her cheeks and soaking the collar of her robe. This set off even more feelings of irritation  
towards herself which in turn caused her to run faster and make the tears fall all that much more frequently.  
She might have run herself to death in her very logical, clear panic had she not at that point been so  
blinded by tears that she missed the flight of stairs at her feet and went sailing out into the abyss.  
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Draco was not having a good time of it. Besides not being able to find that damned Weasel, he was also   
suffering from an emotion that was very foreign to his Malfoy blood - guilt. It was, in fact, so   
strange to him that it took his mind several minutes to identify what he was feeling. When he finally   
came up with a name, he had been so horrified at the prospect of feeling guilt over something he had said to   
a Weasley that he had stopped dead in his tracks, losing her trail completely. After that, he had felt so  
compelled to scrub off that disgusting emotion that he actually took several steps towards the Slytherin bathrooms.  
However, guilt is guilt and however much you may want to ignore it, you can't. So Draco sighed for what  
seemed the thousandth time that evening and began to comb the castle for that red haired brat.  
  
He walked silently, listening intently for any clues of her whereabouts. But as he slunk skillfully  
through the corridors, a strange sense of urgency and impending danger began to grow in his heart. Soon his feet   
where flying over the stone floors and Draco had the uneasy feeling that they knew exactly where they were going.  
Powerless to stop them, he was dragged along for the ride.  
  
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Ginny had a moment of confused thought before she realized what she had done and began to panic. She felt her robes  
flapping against her cheeks and the hem creep embarrassingly high as she plunged down into the deep, impenetrable  
darkness. She fleetingly wondered at what part of the castle would Filch find her splattered body when suddenly she   
heard a strangled cry and was jerked upwards so hard that her eyes rolled back in her head and her   
body went limp.  
  
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Draco was still following his rather confused instincts when he cam to a skidding halt not a moment to soon. Arms   
windmilling, he managed to save himself from a nasty fall more by luck than by skill. However, his sharp eyes picked  
out someone who had not been quite so lucky. A flash of red escaped from the black blur and Draco  
felt his breath catch and his heart stop. Still running on pure instinct, he ripped his wand out of his pocket and  
barely managed to articulate words into his cry of panic.  
  
"Berenang boros!"  
  
He felt his knees sag with relief as her hurtling form stopped and flew back towards him. Unfortunately, his relief lasted  
only moments before he saw the unnatural way her body hung, limp and lifeless. Calling himself nine kinds of fool  
for performing the spell much too strongly, he snagged her out of the air and laid her gently on the ground, breath coming  
in spasmodic bursts. With trembling hands, he turned her ashen face to one side and carefully laid his head on her chest,   
listening with all his might...hoping...praying...there! And again! She was alive, he hadn't killed the little brat after all!  
He tried to tell himself he was only worried about what Dumbledore would do if he found Draco with a dead Weasley in the   
middle of the night, and almost succeeded. However, he couldn't explain away the tears that had popped up behind his eyelids  
or the way his face and ear still felt warm from where he had touched her. But more important than all that and more pressing  
on his mind was that she was still unconscious. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with illness or injury, in fact he was  
hopeless when it came to simple wound-binding charms and he felt his gorge begin to rise at the thought of trying to save her  
with magic only to kill her out of inexperience. So, with hesitating hands and a helpless, if concerned, look on his face, he  
pulled Ginny Weasley into his lap and did the only thing he could think of to do: he talked.  
  
"Uh...hi, Weasel." That didn't sound very Malfoy-ish at all, Draco thought disapprovingly. But when he opened his mouth to say   
something caustic he found that no words would come out. Instead, as he stared at her oddly beautiful little face, other words  
began to flow much more easily.  
  
"I hope I didn't hurt you with that spell...I'm sorry if I did. Although it's your own damn fault for running around the castle  
without looking where your going! Leave it to a Weasely to fall down a perfectly visible flight of stairs." But the jab had a   
strange, half hearted quality to it and it sound almost...fond.  
  
"I mean, really, brat. What would I have done if you had plummeted straight to the bottom? No more sleepless nights feeling your  
eyes on me, no more senseless following you about a castle at three in the morning. And how would I survive without being trapped   
in strange rooms with you? So that's why you have to wake up. Honestly, you know you'd come back from the grave for a chance to  
humiliate me...well, your chance is right here. So wake up! Please...?" At this he lifted a hand and hesitantly reached down to   
stroke the copper strands of her hair.   
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Ginny was getting really tired of all this melodramatic falling into strange rooms and almost killing herself by tumbling down stairs.  
It wasn't her style in the least. Really, she hadn't been noticed or had even a slightly interesting adventure in the last four years   
of her life and now, in the space of about thirty six hours, she had had enough to last her a lifetime. These were the thoughts that  
were running through her head as the cobwebs cleared out and the blackness faded away. As her senses came back into her power, she   
noticed something odd. First, touch told her that her head was lying on something soft and warm while her legs and backside were frigid   
from sitting on cold stone. Second, smell told her that a very nice scent was coming from the vicinity above her head. Then, hearing  
came back and she perceived an all too familiar voice pulsing in her ears.  
  
"...know you'd come back from the grave for a chance to humiliate me...well, your chance is right here. So wake up! Please...?"  
  
If Ginny had been able to gasp, she would have. As it was, all she could do was wonder at the strange tenderness that coated the   
silver haired boy's tongue and ponder over the pleading quality it took on when asking her to wake up. Then, shock of all shocks,   
she felt trembling fingers smooth the hair away from her forehead, fingers with a gentleness that she had never felt the like of. It would  
be all to easy to sink back into darkness with the care and protection she felt surrounding her, but somewhere in the back of her mind  
Ginny felt a niggling worry. Fighting the temptation to sleep, she forced first one eye, then the other open and found herself staring up  
at the very relieved, very surprised face of Draco Malfoy.  
  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
She was awake! The exultant thought rang through his ears and pulled at the corners of his lips. He could feel the tension running out of his body  
as he stared down into the deep brown eyes that were nestled in his lap. He caught a hint of worry in those chocolate orbs, could feel a slight   
shifting of the muscles in her back as though she intended to leap up and run away at the slightest wrong move.  
  
'What did I do wrong? Why is she looking at me like that?' he thought, as he continued to absently stroke her hair. The movement caught his eye  
and as he stared at his pale hand entrenched in her jarringly red tresses, he suddenly realized exactly who he was and exactly what he was touching.   
Oddly enough, that thought didn't make him recoil as he expected it to. But the moment was broken, and he felt Ginny shift around and then sit up,   
looking uncertainly at him.   
  
"Um...hi." she whispered in a very tiny voice that caused his heart to thump an extra beat.  
  
"Hi..." He noted with surprise that the usual biting tone was completely missing from his words.  
  
"So you...you...uh, saved me, didn't you?" She glanced up to briefly meet his eyes, then looked away.  
  
"Yeah, I guess I did." He really wasn't the master of conversation tonight.  
  
"Why? Wouldn't you have been happy to see one of Harry's lovesick fans go plummeting into oblivion?" The hurt tone of her voice reminded him of why  
she had been running in the first place. Unfortunately, the mention of Harry's name from those pink lips erased any shred of guilt he had left and  
his voice found again its usual asperity.  
  
"Well since there are too many of you for him to keep track of himself, I had to step in as knight in shining armor. But, since you've already shown  
me how grateful you are that I saved your life, I think I'll just be going." With that he stood up to leave.  
  
"Wait." Her voice touched his heart as her hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve. Suddenly, she was standing at his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I   
should've thanked you. I just....I just didn't understand." Here she gave a rueful laugh. "However much I could wish that you had let me meet my   
untimely end, I suppose I should say it...so thank you."  
  
She had caught him in her gaze again. Damn that Weasel! He couldn't look away! He couldn't even open his mouth to say some properly insulting jibe.  
He could feel her breath on his neck, feel her body just barely not touching his...she was clouding his senses, what with her smell of cinnamon invading  
his nostrils. It..it wasn't fair! It wasn't right! But even as he felt the brief flash of annoyance he turned his head and found himself uncomfortably   
close to those perfect brown eyes.  
  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
She felt a tiny stab of guilt as he got up to walk away. Sure, he had said some really terrible things to her and that was what had sent her over the edge,  
figuratively and literally, but he had also saved her life and just because he wasn't Harry was no reason for her lack of apology. So she reached out her   
hand and stopped him. She stood slowly and carefully phrased the words in her head.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should've thanked you. I just....I just didn't understand. However much I could wish that you had let me meet my   
untimely end, I suppose I should say it...so thank you."  
  
But now she was standing too close to him and that sent was in her brain again, swirling and whirling and drawing her ever nearer to those broad shoulders.  
Now she was standing so close that she could feel her breath glancing off his neck and warming her nose. She lifted an involuntary hand just as he spun around  
and, lost in those silver orbs, she leaned inexorably inward, closer...closer...  
  
"Hmm...what's this? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor out of beddy-bye after lights out? Tsk tsk tsk...someone's in trouble, aren't they?"  
  
Ginny had never before hated anyone as much as she hated Argus Filch at that moment. 


	9. Chapter 9

I can't believe I'm 3/4 away from a hindred reviews! That really blows my mind...and I still haven't come  
up with new words to express how happy I am...but here's a huge thank you to all of you guys!  
Gryphnwng (thanks for all you reviews), nitpiklock (thanks, I hope you really are still here), daWOODisONfire  
(thanks for yet another review and I agree, I dislike Filch, too), Rambling Idiot (thanks! now you know what  
happened to the kids out of "beddy by"), fyrechild (thanks for the well wishing), Lynn-chan (the evil part   
of me apologizes), PATIENCE101 (sorry, I updated as soon as I could), Rebuky )I guess not many people are very happy  
with Filch, are they?), Belladonna (thanks SO much for the compliment, your reviews mean so much!), animegirl-mika   
(another one who doesn't like Filch!), Krista of StarTress (thanks so much for the story ideas, I'll definitely  
keep them in mind), Fuschia (we should start a "We Hate Filch" club...hehehe) and finally KeeperOfTheMoon (I did!)  
  
And a HUGE thanks to SaturnsHikari who was talking to me online while I wrote this chapter...you are ever so   
much fun! And your cat is the funniest thing alive.  
  
Whew!  
  
Ok, here are a few notes...  
  
Sorry about the late update, finals and Christmas were crazy, plus I just got a puppy who doesn't leave  
me any free time (she's chewing on my toes as I write this). SO that's my excuse, don't take your wrath  
out on me, take it out on the puppy...which I'm sure you won't.  
  
I dislike stories in which Draco's the "misunderstood nice guy" and in which Ginny and Draco both jump  
into a relationship for no apparent reason. I think it's very OOC...I've had a few reviews stating that  
Draco's a bit OOC...I didn't reply to them because I know something they didn't...and you'll all find out  
this chapter! Yay! But any of you who were hoping for some making out real soon are going to be disappointed.  
Sorry! Ok, next update should be no later than Tuesday (as a Christmas present to my wonderful reviewers).  
Updates should be coming more frequently as the holidays go on. Now, on with the show...  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
If Argus Filch had been a more lyrical man, he would have compared the joy coursing through his   
veins to the exhilaration of the first daffodil after a long winter. Unfortunately, as his vocabulary  
consisted mainly of grunts and snarls, Filch was limited in his descriptive terms. Still, catching  
students out of bed brought the primary joy in his life, enough so that Argus almost felt grateful  
towards the little slimes, but not quite grateful enough to avoid punishing them to the ends of the   
Earth.  
  
He watched with an inarticulate pleasure as the color blanched from their young, fresh faces, saw  
worry wrinkles bloom on unlined foreheads. Yes, this was what he lived each weary day for, the   
power to intimidate real wizards although he was only a squib. Had he been paying attention, he  
would have realized that his rusty old tear ducts had filled his eyes with moist happiness as he  
opened his mouth to pronounce judgment.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Ginny felt an hysterical laugh fighting to bubble out of her tightly clamped lips. This wasn't   
happening. This absolutely, positively WAS NOT happening. She closed her eyes for a few moments,   
still working double time to keep from appearing clinically insane. She willed herself back into   
her nice, warm Gryffindor dorm where, if she were a normal sixteen year old girl, she would be  
comfortably asleep in her bed. She opened her eyes a crack. Filch's twisted face leered down at her.  
Stifling an even more hysterical yelp, she quickly decided that she preferred blindness to her  
present situation and promptly covered her face with her hands. If she had been paying attention,  
she would have known that her laughter had turned into an eerie moan which was escaping from her  
throat in barely audible waves.  
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Draco felt that, if he hung around Virginia Weasley any longer, his vocabulary of swears would  
outnumber his everyday words. As it was, he was mentally referring to himself, Ginny and that  
miserable squib Filch as every single foul name he could dredge up out of his mind. The list was  
beginning to impress even himself. How could he have let himself do this? What the hell had come  
over him these last few weeks? Chasing around carrot topped crazy girls, talking nicely to them,  
saving their ungrateful little scrawny necks that should be wrung time and again, just on principle!  
He had almost let her touch him! He felt a shudder coming on and quickly repressed it, but he couldn't   
stop the undeniable rage that was filling his heart and mind. What the hell had he been thinking? Not   
just tonight, not even the last few days. Ever since he had overheard that stupid conversation he had   
been second guessing his values and everything he had ever been taught instead of doing what was only   
right and made sense. If the Dark Lord thought Draco would betray him, well, instead of practically carry   
out that prophesy, he'd just have to convince his Master that he was the most evil, most corrupted, darkest   
and most powerful wizard to come along since...well...since himself. This entire thought process took place   
in his head, but the sudden change was apparent in the way his face transformed into his father's. Set with   
hard, cruel lines and a sadistic glint to the eye, Draco turned to a now gibbering and terrified Filch and said,   
in the most deadly of venomous voices:  
  
"I really doubt that you want to take that tone with me, Argus. You'll find I am a formidable foe."  
  
With another quicksilver change, a slight smile quirked lips in a phenomenally disturbing manner and his voice  
took on a velvet quality, too soft and sensual to really be uttering the words that Ginny heard. Locking eyes with   
his red-headed companion he said:  
  
"If you punish her severely I promise not to hurt you, Squib. And I do mean severely..."  
  
Leaving that suggestion practically shimmering in the cold night air, Draco whipped his robe around and strode  
away feeling enormously pleased with himself.  
  
  
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Lucius Malfoy sat silently in his study, not even a breath of air disrupting his long black robe. The  
room was lit dimly, just enough for his subconscious enjoyment of his flagrant oppulence. He sat bent  
over a curiously designed chessboard, made of several levels, some accompanied by strange buildings or  
monuments. The pieces were oddly designed works of pewter. One was contrived in the form of a paper thin  
wraith, robes more substantial than body. Another was engraved in the likeness of the man in the moon, but  
with an eerily human cast to his features. There were several other pieces, each in varying degrees  
of detail and accuracy.   
  
Lucius Malfoy sat completely still, wand poised over the board, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.  
After all of his planning, each delicate step carried off flawlessly and with infuriating ease. He thought  
his son had been made of stronger stuff than that. A bead of sweat on an otherwise expressionless face fell  
with a tiny splash onto the surface beneath it, betraying both silence and lack of emotion alike.  
He had made his first mistake in underestimating Draco's power of will. Ever since he had received his   
instructions from the now bold and contemptuous Peter Pettigrew, Lucius had been working ever  
so subtley towards his master's goal. With a delicately woven spell placed in a deft net around his  
son's brain, Lucius had found himself able to achieve things that the Imperius curse had limited him  
from. He could control the power that filled his son when he used magic, he could, with intense  
concentration, watch through Draco's eyes as he astutely guided his will without him ever being aware.  
As far as Draco knew, he was simply living through the tumultuous hormones that youth produces. Before tonight,  
he hadn't guessed that his every interaction with and without the Weasley girl was meticulously planned  
out by his sire.  
  
But now...now all of his planning could be for naught if he couldn't find some new way to repair the hole Draco  
had torn in their tenuous connection. Or...unless he could find a new spell that would hold faster than the last...  
  
With that thought, Lucius sprang up in a startling burst of motion and attacked his private library with a  
voracious appetite.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
The morning after her encounter with Filch dawned pale and cold, much as Ginny herself was feeling. She had never been   
so grateful as when she realized that Filch was NOT going to take Malfoy's suggestion and was instead leading her straight   
to McGonagall. She had been so anxious from the unspoken threat that, when she finally faced Dumbledore's second, she did   
so in a state of trembling anxiety. She had stammered out that she didn't know why she was out of the castle while trying   
to keep a firm hold on the emotions that were roiling in her belly. McGonagall, obviously slightly disturbed at seeing such   
a pale, frightened Weasley, took pity on her and assigned  
her detention with the easiest teacher- Hagrid. Unfortunately, this didn't do much to assuage Ginny's hurt and  
confusion and she had had to fight hard to keep herself under control as Filch escorted her to the Fat Lady  
portrait. Every time she felt his eyes on her she'd hunch down and move farther away from him until, finally, she   
was scrambling along like a red haired crab hard against the cold stone wall. When she had finally reached her  
bed, it had been cold and the moonlight turned the sheets into pale marble. No amount of body heat or huddling  
had warmed her bedclothes last night, she hadn't felt any warmth at all since she had heard his voice as her brother  
must hear it, cold and mocking and...and...evil. He was evil and rotten and a terrible person and he was hurtful and  
spiteful and mean and not in the least attractive. She had repeated that over and over to herself all of last night   
until it became her mantra. She could feel all the life that the encounters with him had granted her draining away.  
She was cold. Cold and emotionless and she didn't care about anything or anyone at all, at all. She walked out of the  
castle just as dawn was peaking over the mountains that framed Hogwarts. She walked in deliberate shadow, away from  
the warmth and golden light of the sun in a silent stand against anything and everything because she didn't know how  
else to heal this hurt. She knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut, at exactly the specified detention time, prepared to  
devoid herself of emotion at the sight of his friendly face.  
  
"Heya, Ginny! Ready ta' do a bit o' work?" He asked, no mention of punishment, as though Ginny had come to help him  
voluntarily.   
  
His wide grin and simple sweetness cracked her resolve with humiliating ease and Ginny felt that that was just too much   
to bear. Adding insult to injury, the tears began to pour down her cheeks and onto Hagrid's front porch.  
  
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Draco slept better than he had in months.  
  
The look of betrayal in the Weasel's eyes had invigorated him as it would have a year ago. His handling of Filch left  
him feeling in charge of himself and everyone else around him. Still on this natural euphoria, he had swaggered almost  
to the point of comedy back to his common room. Wanting to savor his first real entrance of the school year, he slipped  
quietly around the perimeter of the room, unnoticed by his House mates. A taste for dramatic flair and the sight of the  
large shadows the fire was casting resulted in a sly half smile and a wicked gleam in his grey eyes.   
  
He stepped forward and simultaneously tossed his robe off of his broad shoulders, watching with a twisted enjoyment  
as the shadow passed through the room and the fire made his outline appear to glow. He looked like a Holy Avenger, like  
a statuesque Angel of Death and he knew it. He didn't utter a single word, just fixed every individual with an expressionless  
stare holding their eyes until they felt the fear of mortality in their hearts and fled from the room. Eventually, only   
Crabbe and Goyle were left and he dismissed them with a contemptuous sneer, dusting his hands off as though he had reached   
into a midden heap. He stepped gracefully down from the raised platform and sauntered to a green, overstuffed couch, pausing   
here and there to glance over what his classmates had left in their panicked wake. With an immensely self satisfied smile,   
Draco reclined onto the soft material, feeling the warmth of the fire spread heat through his whole person. It had been   
ages since he'd felt genuinely warm and the feeling was so enjoyable that he sank into a deep sleep.  
  
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Ooh...the plot thickens! Review please and I'll review you! Let me know what you think about this recent turn of events and  
I'll send you a *pony for Christmas!  
  
*By ponies I mean...I'm not sending any ponies. Sorry, that was just an evil ploy to get you to review. 


	10. Chapter 10

Wow...I'm almost at one hundred reviews...that is probably the best Christmas present I could ask for. Do  
you think we could break 100 with this chapter. I swear I will send the hundredth reviewer a whole bag of cookies  
in they don't mind giving their address to a complete stranger. Hehehe...that would be fun. Ok, onto my thankyou's:  
  
Darcel Lucia (he gets even more insane in this chapter!), Gryphnwng (hehehe...I love being all powerful in my own little  
universe), evillalmanotlamma(frogs (thanks!), Rebuky (wait no longer), Anna Nana (ok!), PATIENCE101 (thanks so much, you   
are one of my most loyal reviewers), Fuschia (heee...I am an evil author, thanks and you have a great Christmas as well!),  
stefany (sorry about the pony), Linda (thanks), The Golden Goose (hmm...Filch the skunk...I feel a ficlet coming on...), Xia  
(I'll get to you later), Lynn-chan (hurray for thesauruses).  
  
The favorite review award goes to Xia, for giving me a phenomenally helpful review. It gave me some pointers and a few   
things to work on, which is what I really love in reviews. So thanks oodles to you, Xia. I added a few things in just  
because of your review (like the bit with Hermione at the end).  
  
Ok, well...I'm writing this around 11:30 Christmas Eve, so it is still technically Tuesday. Hurray for updating on time!  
Whoo! I hope everyone is having/will have a happy holiday, and to help improve yours if you aren't (or even if you are)  
I give to you this rather longer than usual chapter as my humble present to you, my wonderful readers. Good night and  
God bless us, every one!  
  
Here we go...  
  
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Before that afternoon, Ginny never suspected that so many liters of liquid could exist in such a small   
capacity as a young girl's head. But now, with the droplets splashing down her cheeks, dripping off  
her nose and turning the dirt at Hagrid's doorway into mud she found that even they weren't enough  
to assuage the grief that filled her heart. Great, gulping sobs racked her thin frame, a  
humiliating layer of mucus was coating the front of her bright orange shirt and the most unflattering  
noises were escaping from her constricted airways as she tried to pour out the whole story.  
  
"Oy, Ginny! What'sa matter? 'S all righ', jest calm down now..."  
  
Hagrid's well meaning attempt at comfort was actually suffocating Ginny more than her hysterical sobs,  
and she struggled to free herself from his heavy arms. Fortunately, the fight for life sobered her somewhat   
and she was able to gasp out her troubles after a few moments, pain somewhat diminished.  
  
"Oh, Hagrid...I...I...I'm so stupid. I thought...I thought I had a friend Hagrid. And then...oh how could  
I have been SO stupid? What would Mum say? And Harry!" At this thought the panic swelled again and Ginny  
found the words pouring out of her mouth completely of their own will.  
  
"Oh no, if Harry found out he'd never look at me again and I just couldn't bear that Hagrid! I can stand him   
never loving me or talking to me, but if I can't see his eyes any more...I...I think I'd die!" Ginny, suddenly  
realizing she wasn't twelve years old anymore, nor a prat, snapped her teeth shut with a click and noticed   
that Hagrid looked exceedingly uncomfortable.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hagrid. I didn't mean to unload on you like that. It's not your fault that I'm a silly little girl  
that could never win the likes of..." she broke off in confusion, wondering why Hagrid was making those shushing   
motions.  
  
"What's wrong, Hagrid? Do you not want to talk to me any more either? I...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..."  
  
Ginny looked at her toes sadly, hoping Hagrid would deny the statement. Instead, she heard a groan that sounded  
like a thousand bumblebee's droning and he placed his massive, shaggy head in his hands. The Boy Who Lived sidestepped  
around his huge frame and, with a suspiciously red face and an unusually high voice squeaked:  
  
"Hi Ginny! I...uh...I just found out that my...broomstick's...on fire...On fire! Yes! Better go put it out!" And  
he was gone, as though he'd put on his Invisibility Cloak.  
  
Ginny did the only thing that she really could do at that moment. She opened her mouth and let out every one of  
her troubles in an ear piercing scream. Then, she calmly turned on her heel and walked back towards the castle  
fully intending to jump off the nearest parapet.  
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Draco tossed fitfully on his warm couch. Unsettling dreams were plaguing his subconscious that night, but not the same  
dreams that had haunted him for so many months. In the first of these new nightmares, he found himself standing in front of   
a clouded mirror, his own face staring back at him. A sense of foreboding surrounded him and he glanced over his left   
shoulder...there was nothing there but a dusty grey room. However, when he turned back to the mirror he found his father's   
countenance in place of his own, a glint of insanity in the eyes betraying his identity. Startled, Draco bent forward until   
he was nose to nose with the reflection. Suddenly, in a flash of well remembered green light, Voldemort's face leered at   
him from the mirror and powerful arms shot out and snaked around his torso, pulling him inevitably into the glass. This was   
so disturbing that Draco's mind rebelled and propelled his subconscious into another figment of his imagination. This time,   
Draco faced what appeared to be an ancient puppet show. He stared at the limp, lifeless marionette that hung despondently from   
his many strings and gasped in surprise. It was himself, in perfect miniature! He craned his neck upwards, but only shadowy   
silhouettes smote the light, indistinct in the high contrast.  
  
Draco woke in a sweat, having rolled off the couch and uncomfortably near the roaring flames of the Slytherin fire. He put   
a trembling hand to a groggy head, smoothing unruly hair from his sweat slicked brow. Licking dry lips, he struggled to his  
knees and stopped halfway to his feet. There, in the smooth surface of the silver mantle, his reflection stared back at him.  
In this light and with his hair hanging loosely around his face, the uncanny resemblance to Lucius was barely detectable.  
  
"Who am I?" The thought rose out of the shadowed corners of his still sleeping mind and passed through his lips, fogging   
the silver and obscuring his reflection.  
  
'Who am I?' The thought echoed uneasily through his head.  
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Lucius panted raggedly, his usually neat hair mussed into an unholy halo around his painfully thin face. He had become rapidly   
emaciated when he began using the Testamente curse on his only son and heir, but that was hardly an issue when you were capable  
of controlling another person's every whim and action. Unfortunately, even more of Lucius's strength had been sapped when Draco   
forcibly broke the bond the curse had formed between them. According to the ancient book in which he had found the curse, that   
wasn't supposed to be possible, not in the least, but Draco was a Malfoy and Malfoy's were well known for their abilities in the  
Dark Arts. This train of thought leant an eerie smile to the older man's face, a smile that reeked of madness and an insatiable   
lust for mayhem. It came and went completely unremarked as the smile was suddenly replaced by a look of intense concentration as  
Lucius read aloud the words on the page.  
  
"Addo...ti degradare dominae!"  
  
A sourceless wind picked up in the office, whipping papers into a tornado that encompassed the entire room. A bright flash of a sickly  
yellow light flooded Lucius' vision for one brief moment, leaving red/purple after images burned onto the back of his eyelids. The  
light had consolidated into a fine beam by the time he could force his eyes to open again and was weaving in a serpentine fashion before  
his chest. Then, with the coiled power of a springing viper, the light struck his chest with a force that knocked him out of his chair and sent  
him skidding across the polished wooden floors and up against the back wall. Suspended in the air, he writhed in an ecstatic agony at  
the power that coursed through his veins...and still more came. More and more until he thought he would explode from the pain and the joy,  
until he was too full of the light, until he WAS the light and only a shred of Lucius Malfoy clung to this strange man floating in the  
room. With an abruptness that was shocking, the light winked out, the wind died off and Lucius' body came crashing to the floor.  
  
He lay motionless for an indeterminate amount of time. Days, weeks, minutes...he couldn't tell. But when he raised his disheveled head  
and rose up to his knees, none of it mattered. He could feel...something. A presence. A disembodied life force that was completely under   
his bidding. He caught his reflection in the window glass across the room, simultaneously surprised and disregarding the apparent   
madness that exuded from his frame. The image blurred and suddenly Lucius found himself staring at his traitorous son, hair a mess and  
looking more like his mother than any real man had a right too. With a snarl, Lucius clenched his fist and the window exploded into the  
night, glass raining down on the white covered lawn. As snow blew in the opening and swirled around Lucius's head, a delighted giggle   
bubbled up from his stomach that chilled the room even more than the frigid wind.  
  
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Needless to say, Ginny did not jump off of anything, much less a parapet. She really wasn't an over dramatic prat and she knew that this  
wasn't the end of the world, it simply felt like it. Still, she found herself wanting to do nothing more than lie on her bed, alone and  
miserable, and feel sorry for herself for the rest of this terrible Saturday. She was well on her way to achieving this goal, as it was   
already two in the afternoon and she hadn't heard the whisper of a single person since she returned to the Gryffindor tower. She was just   
beginning to feel that her emotions were at the stage in which a large block of Honeyduke's chocolate should  
cure all of her ills when a hesitant knock came at the door. Preparing to do some full scale yelling if the person  
wasn't bearing something sugary, Ginny got up and practically threw the door open. Hermione squeaked and abruptly dropped the huge chunk of  
chocolate she held in her hands. Ginny watched in dismay as it shattered on impact, feeling that this was indeed the 'insult that enraged  
the hippogriff' as the saying goes. Hermione, who had a hand to her rapidly beating heart, smile kindly at her and pulled out her wand.  
  
"Sorry, Ginny. You just startled me is all. Here, I'll fix it. Choculis Repairo!" And the scattered pieces all shot back together. "There.  
Might be a little worse for the wear, but it's still chocolate!" She smiled encouragingly at Ginny, profferring a rather large hunk. "Do  
you think that I could come in for a minute?"  
  
Ginny accepted the piece with unfeigned enthusiasm and, with a gesture, ushered Hermione over to her bed. Ginny sprawled on the coverlet,   
to depressed and humiliated to care if Hermione was actually looking directly at her. It didn't really matter any more. She had let HIM  
look at her, let him steal her identity all because of those compelling grey eyes and he had gone and thrown it in her face. She was   
featureless now, just another blade of grass in a never ending field. She didn't care any more. Which was, to say the least, slightly   
disconcerting for poor Hermione who was trying, in her own, awkward way, to sympathize with the younger girl. The only problem was that  
Hermione was not at all used to opening up and letting her feelings out (which was part of the reason she seemed to be the only person that   
didn't know she was madly in love with Ron) so all she could really do was sit in uncomfortable silence on the end of the bed while Ginny   
munched the chocolate dejectedly.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, anything to end this terrible silence when Ginny spoke up.  
  
"Thanks for the chocolate. How'd you know?"  
  
Hermione smiled hesitantly, secretly thrilled that she'd done something right. "Well, I suppose that Muggle born and Wizarding family girls  
aren't all that different on the inside. I know that I always want chocolate when I'm feeling especially bad about things. You should have seen   
me in third year, when I had all those extra classes," she added with a laugh. "I must have gone through a pound a day."  
  
Ginny did her best to laugh, but all she could manage was a sickly smile. "Actually, I meant how'd you know what happened?"  
  
"Oh..." At this Hermione's face flushed to a bright red and she quickly found the scarlet blanket she was sitting on fascinating. "Well...Harry   
sort of told Ron that you had gone a little nuts this morning." She glanced up to see if Ginny was offended by the semi-derogatory word. Falesly  
reassured by the sudden blankness of the redhead's face, she continued on. "He asked Ron to talk to you, but uh...he was pretty mad. You know how  
Ron is, so I thought that I should come up and uh...try to sort things out." With that she forced herself to look at the girl across from her.  
  
Ginny had wondered if the day could get any worse, and it had just proven that it could. Hermione was talking to her because Harry ASKED her to?  
He wanted her to intervene so that Ron's 'creepy little sister' would stop obsessing over him? Oh, this was not the calming situation that she  
so desperately needed right now. It wasn't even close. Ginny felt a white hot rage that would outshine Ron at his worst build up inside of her  
and barely managed to say, through gritted teeth:  
  
"Get out."  
  
"What?" Hermione stammered, suddenly realizing that the younger girl was seethingly angry. "Oh Ginny, that came out all wrong..."  
  
"Wrong? How could it come out wrong?! Harry and Ron probably bribed you with...with...with BOOKS to come up here and pretend to be my friend so  
that I'd leave them alone? Take on for the team, eh Hermione? Well, great job! I promise I'll leave you all alone now! GET OUT!" Ginny roared  
the last two words so loudly that Hermione had fled in terror before their echoes died away.  
  
Ginny sat down hard on the floor, too exhausted and alone to even think about the parapet.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Whew! That was hard. Writing Ginny in a bit of a temper is a challenge for me, I hope I did all right. Review and let me know and I'll review you!  
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 


	11. Not Quite Fin

Hello again. Want to hear somethign kind of funny? I've started this story again. So far, I've got a brand new plot actually outlined (so no more quitting half way through because I have no idea where I'm going) and the first two chapters have been severely edited. I haven't posted them yet, I'm not sure how I'm going to go about replacing them all (because I am going to have to re edit all of the chapters, as some parts don't make sense with the new plot line, some don't make sense period and some are just bad). So I think what I'll end up doing is waiting until I've got all existing chapters re done, and then I'll just do a monster edit and replace everything at once. Then I'll start updating with chapters that actually continue the story line. I don't know if there's anyone on ff.net that still cares about this story (I hope you do, everyone was so nice the first go around) but even if there's not, at least I can finish this thing up and maybe attract a few new readers. That would be great. So yes. This is basically just in case any one who cares stumbles across this story, to let them know that all is not lost, and I'm working towards finishing all the chapters by the end of this week. Wouldn't that be nice? Hurray! 


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